Songs of the Blue Stone Mountain
by nowseehere
Summary: In 1962, after her fathers death, London socialite and self proclaimed writer and artist, Patience Mount, decides she need a break from it all. The parties, the hobnobbing - she needs to get away so she can focus on producing the next great English novel, instead of the trashy yet entertaining dramatic romance series she's known for. No distractions, whatsoever. Well, maybe one...
1. Chapter 1

It was a rather active morning that Saturday in the well to do London neighborhood of Spitalfields. The sun finally peeked through the clouds for what seemed like the first time that year and thawed the last of the winter's snow. Many residents emerged from their homes to feel the warmth of the sun on their skin. Children were running through the streets playing, filling the alleys with laughter and heavy footsteps clamoring against the cobblestone streets as they chased footballs, skipped rope, and played hopscotch. The older residents were perfectly content to enjoy the weather in less active ways, many choosing to go for a stroll and smell the flowers that we're already blooming.

This, unfortunately all went unappreciated to one Patience Mount who was in severe danger of missing her train, the woman looking out at the world through the back of a taxi window while she anxiously chewed on her nails.

Patsy felt delicate fingers on her wrist push her hand away from her mouth, and she looked over to see her dear friend, the ever so beautifully blonde haired blue eyed Trixie Franklin, shaking her head and tutting disapprovingly.

'None of that now,' she scolded, 'you'll ruin the varnish. Such a lovely color on you, too.'

Patsy had recruited Trixie to accompany her to the station, thinking of no one better to see her off than her longest and dearest friend of nearly a decade. This turned out to be a ghastly mistake as the chatty woman had only belabored her departure, insisting on throwing her a going away party until all hours of the morning and then staying in for brunch and making an absolute fuss that she was even leaving for the entire season in the first place!

But it was too late. Everything was booked and the money was spent and above all, Patsy was actually looking forward to going to where she was going. Springtime in the quiet countryside was exactly what she needed after all she had been through the past few months.

Patsy let out a sigh of relief as the cab came to a screeching halt in front of the station, and she practically jumped out before the driver could even put the car in park.

She hitched her purse over her shoulder and situated her floppy hat firm on her head, rounding the cab and impatiently banging on the boot so the driver would pop it open, and when he did she reached in and grabbed her own luggage while Trixie paid the man.

Patsy handed Trixie a smaller suitcase with her clothing and makeup while she pulled out a second, particularly large and heavy suitcase from the boot before closing the thing shut, using all her might and effort to heave the larger suitcase off the ground and carry it up the steps and into the station as the taxi they came in speed off.

Trixie sighed despondently as she walked quickly alongside Patsy. The heels worn by the two women clacked noisily under their feet, the acoustics of the vast train station only amplifying the echo of their footsteps as they made a beeline for the ticket counter.

'Are you sure you need to leave so soon?' Trixie pleaded, ignoring the look she was getting from her redheaded companion, 'You've only just returned from Hong Kong and I feel like I've barely been able to spend any time with you at all since you've been back.'

Patsy approached the counter and placed the cumbersome suitcase down at her feet, shuffling through her pocketbook as she addressed the gentleman at the ticket counter.

'Picking up for Patience Mount to Haverfordwest, Pembrokeshire, please. First class.'

'Pats…' Trixie pleaded with a sad sigh.

'Trixie,' Patsy turned to her friend with a stern tone to her voice, fluffing out her dress around her knees. It had become little disheveled by their jaunt from the cab, 'you very well know that my father's dying wish was for me to review and publish his memoirs,' she sighed a little disappointedly, 'While it isn't the most exciting thing, it's something to do while I'm having a bit of lag of creativity in my own work'.

Patsy was a writer by trade, having made her living writing a series of fictional novels for adults called Spitfires of Spitalfields. It was a dramatic reflection of her own experiences as a lesbian socialite in London, her characters loosely based on her past loves and relationships, with the names and appearances changed of course. Her novels were well reviewed but chalked up to nothing more than trashy beach reads in her mind, and she was disappointed in herself for being almost 30 years of age and not achieving the literary fame of Austen or Bronte or Wolf.

As of late, something recently had been calling to her to try her hand at writing something else, for another audience, another genre possibly, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what that might be. It was all very well and good as the motivation nor the inspiration to write anything had come to her for several months. She had been busy traveling to Hong Kong and seeing her father out of this world, her last blood relation gone forever. While the thought of being the last Mount left alive weighed heavily in her heart, she didn't let it get in the way of her moving on and living her life. She had vowed to pour her heart and soul into seeing out his last wish and she was determined to get it done by the end of this summer.

'Not to worry Pats,' Trixie said sympathetically, 'you're always so clever with your stories. I'm sure lightning will strike!'

Patsy merely grunted disapprovingly.

'I still don't understand why you have to go off to Pembrokeshire,' Trixie complained.

'Whyever not?' Patsy asked as she handed over some money to pay for her ticket, 'this inn was recommended to me by Barbara you know. She gave it a grand review!'

'Oh,' Trixie bristled, 'Silly Barbara,' she said under her breath before she looked to Patsy once more, 'Why not just stay in London, Pats? Or go where other artists go? Paris? New York?'

'Oh, you only want me to go to one of those cities so you have an excuse to come and visit,' Patsy chided, giving her friend a playful side eye.

'So?' Trixie exclaimed, 'Wouldn't it be marvelous to spend the spring and summer in New York?' Trixie sighed dreamily, 'living in an open studio somewhere trendy like Soho, drinking coffee all day, writing, discussing art and politics and literature with other artists and and listening to poetry and music all night…,' she trailed off wistfully.

'As wonderful as that sounds Trixie, if that were the case then I would never get any work done! Too tempting to goof off,' she huffed, tapping her fingers on the counter impatiently while the man took his sweet time getting her change and putting the necessary stamps on her ticket.

Trixie grunted and shuffled one of Patsy's bags she was holding from one hand to the other, 'Why Wales? There's nothing out there!'

'Precisely!' Patsy with a knowing smile, 'I don't want any distractions. Besides, all this traveling will give me time to think anyway.'

'You just spent six whole weeks on a boat back from Hong Kong! That wasn't enough time to think?'

Patay grumbled, 'Trixie, you should very well know by now that the creative mind is a fickle thing.'

'I'll say.'

'Besides, I was rather distracted as I was in mourning,' Patsy raised an eyebrow to her friend and watched as Trixie's mouth clamped shut, an apologetic look crossing her features.

Their conversation was interrupted by the shrill cry of the train whistle blowing steam high into the air, the booming voice of a guard shouting 'All aboard!' carrying through the station.

'Oh dear,' Patsy said as she turned back to the counter.

'You better get a move on, miss,' the gentleman behind the counter said as he handed over Patsy's ticket, 'that's the last one out to where you're going today.'

'Yes, I've gathered,' Patsy replied smartly as she snatched her ticket away from him. She was in such a rush that she began to run out to the platform leaving all her things and Trixie behind.

'Hey, you numpty!'

'Oh!' Patsy halted in her tracks, her skirt fluttering around her knees. She turned around to see Trixie struggling to pick up her rather large and bulky suitcase.

'Good grief, Pat's!' Trixie groaned through clenched teeth, 'what on Earth do you have in there? Lead?'

Patsy laughed, 'My typewriter of course, silly!'

Patsy huffed slightly as she heaved the heavy suitcase up off the ground and trotted as quickly as she could out to the platform where the train was slowly starting to roll forward. Trixie was hot on her heels flowing close behind with Patsy's other, much lighter suitcase.

Patsy heaved her typewriter onto the step of one of the doorways, a coach hand appearing to take it to the back carriage for her.

She turned back to Trixie, pausing momentarily to give her a kiss on both cheeks.

'So long, darling,' she said giving the blondes arm a reassuring squeeze.

'You better write to me, Patience Mount,' Trixie said sternly as she pulled away, and Patsy smiled.

'Of course! It's what I do!'

Patsy turned and trotted slightly along with the rolling train as it was picking up speed. She grasped onto the railing and stepped up, turning back to Trixie who was close behind. Patsy reached for her as Trixie handed her the rest of her things.

'Send Barbara my love!' Patsy called out to her hanging out the door of the carriage and waiving.

'I will… Oh! Pats! What should I say to Missy?' Trixie asked, shouting over the sound of the gears clacking noisily as the train picked up speed.

'Oh, is that woman still calling on me?' Patsy rolled her eyes as her mind flashed back momentarily to the brief two week fling she had with a particularly attractive woman she ran into at The Gateways but realized they were much too I'll suited for anything more than a good romp in the sheets every so often.

She reached up to place her hand on her floppy hat to keep it from flying away, 'I ended things with her ages ago!'

'She doesn't think so!' Trixie exclaimed.

'Well make something up!' she shouted, unable to keep the smile from appearing on her face as her skirt flitted around her knees and her hair tickled her cheeks from the wind.

'Like what!' Trixie asked, coming to a halt as she finally reached the end of the platform.

Patsy shrugged, 'Tell her I've launched myself out of a rocket to the Moon, never to return!'

'You can't just run away from your problems, you know!' Trixie exclaimed exasperated at the antics of her friend, placing her hands on her hips.

'Sure I can! Look at me go!' Patsy shouted and grinned as Trixie grew smaller and smaller, happy to see she finally managed to get the blonde to crack a smile.

She blew her friend a kiss and watched as Trixie pulled out a lace handkerchief and waved it in return, the blaring of the trains whistle billowing through the station once more, ceasing any further conversation.

Patsy smiled as she finally tucked into her carriage, thinking that for once she was looking forward to spending a quiet spring and summer gone and away from the nuances of life among the other upper class socialites of London, finally being able to focus solely for once on her writing and not worry about who was throwing what party and what to wear and how to speak and to whom. Rubbing elbows with the right people was all well and good when you needed something but after the winter she had had, Patsy was exhausted and just wanted to be away from it all.

Yes, a nice quiet season in the country was what she needed. No worries. No distractions.

More importantly no girls like Missy calling after her either.

Patsy shook her head, musing to herself that she narrowly avoided a disaster with that one.

She sighed and leaned back in her seat, her eyes growing heavy as the buildings of the city turned to the charming brick row homes of the outskirts and then to the hills and trees of the country. The rocking of the carriage and rhythmic thrum of the wheels on the track churning along began to lure Patsy to sleep.

Before she let herself drift off, she grazed a finger along a gold chain that hung around her neck. She pulled out the ring that hung from it, immediately missing the weight against her chest. It was a new sensation for Patsy as she typically never wore something so precious for such a long period of time, but she couldn't bring herself to take it off. It was a simple golden band, and one of the few items in her father's possession that she took back from Hong Kong with her when he passed, as this was her mother's wedding ring. It was the one piece of evidence she had of her parents love for one another, other than her very existence, of course.

When she found the ring, Patsy remembered the disappointment she felt when she tried it on, as it was much too small for her long fingers. Her mother had been a smaller women, though Patsy had a hard time imagining it since she died when Patsy was merely a child, so the woman always seemed so much taller in Patsy's mind.

Patsy let the ring dangle in front of her, the gold catching the sunlight beautifully and brightly reflecting it as it swayed in front of her in time with the carriage rocking. She brought the ring to her mouth and kissed it, tucking it back under her collar and pressing it gently against her heart.

Deep down she knew it was just a bit of metal, but Patsy pressed it against her heart anyway, thinking that this was really all she had. The mere thought of her mother having once worn this, carried it around with her for so many years, a symbol of her father's love for her when, to her knowledge, when he couldn't conveyit otherwise, it all made Patsy feel like she was close to the woman for the first time since she last saw her alive almost 20 years ago.

Patsy sighed and closed her eyes, feeling calm and a little less alone, and finally drifted off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Patsy found herself standing outside the train station along a dirt road surrounded by ancient stone fences and trees and other shrubs. The train she had just departed took off once more, billowing smoke high in the air and chugged along, the sound fading off into the distance as it headed to its next destination. The sound of birds tittering and bugs chirping filled the air in no time at all. With her luggage at her feet, Patsy removed her floppy hat and fanned it in front of her, the setting sun abnormally hot against her skin. She looked down the road in one direction, and then the other, expecting a car like she had coordinated with the inn, but she saw no one and heard nothing, other than the aforementioned sounds of nature and sheep baaing in some nearby field.

She looked at her wristwatch and realized she was a little early than she had predicted. Perhaps the car hadn't come by yet?

Patsy took the opportunity to sit down on her luggage and have herself a cigarette, thinking someone would be by soon.

Well, three cigarettes and a half hour later, Patsy was beginning to wonder if she had been forgotten about. The sun was dangerously close to disappearing behind the hills and she was afraid she would need to start walking.

She was about to rise from her seat and at least attempt to call the inn from the station when a rickety old pickup with a load of dry goods puttered around the corner. Patsy didn't think much of it as she watched it go by but sat up straight when it suddenly came to a halt, the brakes screeching shrilly. Patsy watched rather bemused as the truck began to back up and stopped in front of her.

An elderly gentleman wearing a flat cap appeared out the window, leaning heavily on his elbow. Patsy nearly fell off her suitcase when a friendly looking yet misplaced pink pig appeared beside him in the window.

''scuse me, Miss. Are you waiting for someone?' the man asked.

Patsy shrugged, forcing a smile, 'Well I thought I was, but it seems I've been forgotten.'

'Well I can give you a lift so long as you don't mind sittin' in the back,' he took a moment to smile endearingly at the pig next to him and pat her on the head, 'Princess here has a hard time giving up her spot next to me unless it's for the missus, you see.'

'Ah,' Patsy said, raising her eyebrows. She was not quite expecting to be second fiddle to a pig, but then again she would take a ride in the back of this man's truck over walking at this point

'You headed into town?' the gentleman asked as he exited his truck, 'I've just come from there but don't mind turning back. It's not too far.'

Patsy stood and situated her hat back on her head and fluffed her skirt, 'I'm actually headed to the Blue Stone Mountain Inn, are you familiar?'

'Blue Stone, ah, of course, Miss, that'll be the Busby's place,' the man nodded, rocking on his heels and scratching the stubble on his cheek, 'Nice family and all. Usually last on my delivery route actually, but I can stop there first for ya.'

The man walked to the back of his truck and opened the bed, and walked back over to Patsy, reaching for her luggage.

'Oh, sir that won't be be necessary,' Patsy tried to warn him, reaching for her luggage, but she was too late.

'It's no bother miss I'm happy to-,' he stopped suddenly and winced, the very distinct sound of a spine clicking could be heard from the man's lower back.

He cleared his throat, 'On second thought I'll just…' he slowly stood up straight as Patsy looked on apologetically.

The two nodded in understanding without saying another word as he walked back to the cabin of his pickup.

Patsy heaved and grunted slightly as she hoisted her typewriter up onto the bed of the truck, taking a moment to tuck a loose strand of hair up under her hat before she piled on the rest of her things.

The gentleman pulled a blanket from his cabin and rounded the truck, opening the back and folding the blanket before patting it and smiling to Patsy. She promptly turned around and hopped up, settling in and placing a secure hand on her things.

'All set?' he asked.

'I'm very comfortable thank you, sir,' Patsy nodded politely.

'Sir? Oh, beg your pardon miss, I've forgotten me manners,' he raised his cap slightly and with a friendly smile held out his hand, 'Fred Buckle, humble town grocer at your service.'

'Patience Mount, aspiring writer,' Patsy smiled back and shook his hand, 'Pleasure to make your acquaintance.'

'Likewise,' Fred nodded and gave a resounding clap, 'Alright, to the Blue Stone then, off we go,' he said as he rounded his truck and sat in the cabin.

Patsy needed to hold onto her hat as the truck jumped into gear, dirt from the road billowing around them slightly as they started to drive off. Once they were off to a steady rhythm, she was able to compose herself and enjoy the ride. She took a moment to look around to see she was sitting with things like large bags of flour and sugar, boxes of beans and sauces and jams and other such things. The looked over her other shoulder and saw Princess hanging out the passenger window, the pig happily sniffing the air with her shout as if she were a puppy. Patsy smiled at the sight before she turned and faced forward, or, backward rather, watching as she train station disappeared as they rounded the corner.

For quite some time, all she heard was the sound of the truck chugging along and all she saw were the trees and fields, thinking it all looked so beautiful and peaceful. They passed the odd farm or two, stone walls lining the road to keep in the cows and sheep that lazily grazed. Many of the homes they passed were humble cottages or stone dwellings with thatched roofs and flower gardens that Patsy found quite charming.

The building they pulled up to was no different. The small rocks underneath the tires crinkled under the weight of the truck as Fred came to a stop. Patsy looked up to see a stand alone home made of greystone, pops of color appearing from the pots of hanging flowers and green vines that could be seen crawling up the walls.

Fred exited his truck and came around the back to offer his hand and help Patsy down. Once she was safely on the ground again, she collected her luggage and set them at her feet, shaking Fred's hand once again and giving her thanks before he boarded his truck once more and drove it around to the back of the building to offload his delivery.

When she was alone, Patsy gave a resounding sigh and turned back towards the inn, the blue and white hand painted sign over the door proudly proclaiming this to be the Blue Stone Mountain Inn. The door was already open, so she removed her floppy hat and stepped inside.

Immediately to her left was the reception counter, showcasing a telephone, a wall of keys, and a large book of reservations opened to the middle with neat handwritten notes. There was a long hallway in front of her with an open door leading to the back garden, the staircase to her left, and another room to her right that she could only presume was the dining room or lounge.

Patsy smiled as she took in her surroundings. White wallpaper with pink lines and flowers decorated this front room, along with many portraits, all framed with gold of what Patsy presumed to be family members, along with the classic painting or two that really tied the room together.

The house smelled of fresh air, tea, and of spices cooking from the kitchen.

'Marvelous,' Patsy mused with a smile, feeling rather giddy as this was precisely the type of place she had imagined spending her spring and summer.

She looked back over to the reception desk and a small, silver bell caught her attention. She tapped the bell and waited, taking a moment to surreptitiously straighten a framed painting that was hanging on the wall beside her.

Footsteps descending the staircase caught her attention and she smiled as a portly middle aged woman appeared, wrapped in a white shawl to keep of the chill, looking rather surprised to see her.

'Oh, hello Miss,' the woman said as she scurried behind the reception desk.

'Good evening!' Patsy said happily, 'Patience Mount checking in.'

'Mount…' the woman looked confused for a moment.

'You were expecting me, yes?' Patsy asked, her expression turning to one of concern. For all she knew this was the correct place, but as she had never visited the Welsh countryside before, she really had no idea.

'Oh yes of course, Miss Mount! Yes,' the woman extended her hand to Patsy who took it, 'Im Enid Busby, and of course we were expecting you,' she fussed with the notebook on the desk, that paper crinkling noisily as she flipped through the pages, 'My apologies, I just thought I instructed my son to get you all squared away once he picked you up from the station…'

Now Patsy was confused, 'Your son? Surely your son isn't Fred Buckle the grocer.'

Mrs. Busby's head snapped up and the color drained from her face, 'Mr. Buckle?'

'Oh, yes, he was very kind and gave me a lift as he was headed here anyway. '

'Is that so?' her eyes narrowed slightly and she cleared her throat, forcing a smile, 'Please do excuse me for one moment would you?'

Patsy watched as Mrs. Busby grabbed that morning's newspaper and rolled it up, strutting across the hall through the small dining room. Patsy took a step forward and peered into the room only to see Mrs. Busby disappear behind a white swinging door to what she could only assume was the kitchen.

She was able to spend only one second taking in the scenery of the quaint room, the walls decorated with hand painted plates with gold trim, red carpet, polished wooden furniture and white tablecloths and doilies everywhere. All the tables were pristinely set with matching China and silverware with a small fire set on the hearth to tie it all together.

Patsy gushed over how absolutely charming everything here was, but her moment was interrupted when she heard the sound of a rolled up newspaper swatting against skin, some whisper shouting and the voice of a man grumbling.

Patsy quickly returned to her spot at the front desk when she saw Mrs. Busby reappear through the swinging door and she waited patiently for her to return, a smile on her face as she pretended to be oblivious as to what had just happened.

Mrs. Busby returned to her perch behind the little table and smiled up at Patsy, 'I'm so sorry for the inconvenience Miss Mount. My son seems to have forgotten that I specifically asked him to retrieve you from the station.'

'Its no matter,' Patsy said cheerily with a shrug, 'I'm here now.'

'Indeed,' Mrs. Busby looked sternly over Patsy's shoulder, 'Michael, her bags. Now,' she said, her tone leaving now room for argument.

Patsy turned around to see a man looking to be in his 20's in the doorway. He was stocky, black hair slicked back wearing a simple black vest and trousers, built like a rugby player, and she could only assume she was Mrs. Busby's son. She stifled a giggle as she was able to read a bit of that mornings headline smeared across the lads forehead.

Mrs. Busby cleared her throat as Patsy watched, for once, someone pick up her typewriter with no issue, 'I'm sure you want nothing more than to relax after such a long journey.'

'It would be nice to kick these heels off,' Patsy remarked, watching as Michael took all her things through the long hallway, making sure to noisily bang her bags against the walls, in spite of his mother it seemed.

Patsy caught the tail end of an eye roll from Mrs. Busby at her sons antics before he disappeared out the back door to the garden.

'Oh, will I not be staying in the house?' Patsy asked, a little confused.

'Uh, not the main house, no, but you'll be staying in the best room we have,' Mrs. Busby fiddled with some paperwork, 'there's a small bungalow just past the garden with an ensuite. Just added too!' Mrs. Busby said with a smile, 'You'll be the first guest to use it.'

'Marvelous!' Patsy said, feeling quite happy and hoping her cheery mood would alleviate Mrs. Busby of the stress Patsy could clearly feel her experiencing right now.

'Very quiet and private, just as you requested,' Mrs. Busby placed the key on the counter, 'Now, usually we have supper for the guests here in the dining room every evening at six o'clock, but this evening I'll be bringing your dinner out to you for your troubles. Any special requests for my husband Edwin?' she caught herself and cleared her throat, 'Erm, I mean the chef?' she smiled.

'I'm rather ravished and will eat just about anything at this point,' Patsy admitted shyly, 'Whatever is his favorite thing to make I'll have, and a strong cup of tea.'

'As you wish, dear,' Mrs. Busby started and stopped suddenly as a clamoring and the sound of several glasses breaking could be heard coming from the kitchen, followed by some colorful Welsh swearing that Patsy couldn't understand whatsoever.

'Oh for-,' Mrs. Busby shuffled out from behind the desk and turned to Patsy as she walked backwards through the dining room once more 'just one more moment dear, very sorry!' she said before disappearing behind the swinging door to the kitchen.

Patsy sighed, looking back to the desk and seeing the key to her bungalow there. She shrugged and figured she would show herself to her room.

She walked down the hall through the doorway and out onto the garden, pausing a moment to look around. The garden was large, a dirt path cutting through the middle and leading from the main house to the bungalow on the other side. The path had several rows of wooden boxes on either side, each filled with soil and small wooden signs saying things like 'squash' 'spinach' 'celery' ' carrots' and 'tomatoes', little green sprouts already appearing in most of them. Patsy turned her attention to the structure that she would call home for the next several months, thinking it looked like a miniature of the main house. It was charming, made with the same gray stone and a black roof, two windows in the front with red shutters and a red door to match. There was a simple porch lined with potted plants and a cozy looking wicker chair and table. Colorful tulips were planted along the house, bringing a pop of color, and Patsy also noted the beginning of green vines crawling up along the side of the stone, giving the whole dwelling a rustic feel. The fireflies dancing along in the twilight seemed to give the place a rather magical touch.

Patsy saw the door was left ajar and she could see a bit of her luggage sitting just inside. Without reservation, she pushed the door wide open and was promptly met with a pair of legs hanging from the ceiling.

'Oh!' she exclaimed, rather surprised at the unusual sight.

'Mam! Is that you?!' the legs said, wiggling and kicking slightly, 'Micky came in and took the laddar right out front of under me saying Da needed it and he buggered off before I could even get down,' the voice lowered, Patsy only making out a bit of grumbling and what she could only imagine was this person calling Micky a few choice words in their native Welsh.

The voice Patsy was hearing was rather muffled, as the side that was speaking was halfway into the attic. Patsy stepped back, noting the black galoshes and tan trousers held up by red braces. Their legs weren't terribly long, and Patsy assumed this must be another one of Enid's sons, possibly a younger one.

'I'm not your mother' Patsy said, placing her hands on her hips, 'and if you don't mind my asking, young man, what on Earth are are you doing up there?' she asked, genuinely curious.

'Oh…' the boy said, voice laden with a sinking realization that they were indeed not speaking with their _Mam_ , 'Oh dear. I see you've arrived Miss Mount.'

'Indeed I have,' Patsy said, her patience wearing rather thin as she had a long day and simply wanted to have a bath and lay down already.

There was a nervous laughter from inside the attic, 'Heh, erm, so sorry about this miss,' Patsy heard this person say, their legs kicking slightly, 'I had planned to have been all done in here before you arrived, but my brother, er, well…,' the boy cleared his throat, 'well, never mind all that. I'll be out of here in a jiffy if I could trouble you for a chair or something I could use to get down…,'

Patsy figured she ought to try and at least help the lad so she could get on with relaxing for the evening. She could see the pristine bear claw tub in the ensuite that was calling her name.

She looked around, thinking the wicker rocking chair just outside was too big to get through the door, and the only other seat in the room was a small stool by the writing desk, Patsy thinking it not tall enough for the lad to reach with his legs to step down.

Patsy sighed, thinking that she couldn't leave the poor lad hanging precariously from the ceiling any longer, 'I don't really see anything I could use so, um, I'll just help you down, alright?' she said, 'Hang on.'

'Oh, no miss, you don't-,' the boy cut himself off and gasped when Patsy walked around to the front of him and wrapped her arms around his hips. She was mildly surprised, the boy being lighter than she suspected even with their rather plump breasts resting delightfully against the top of her head.

Wait a minute, Patsy thought.

Breasts?!

Patsy squeezed tighter.

Hips?! A supple bum?!

This was no lad!

Patsy whipped her head up, needing to see this person's face.

She was met, very much to her surprise, with a small metal cage containing a very agitated red squirrel that bared it's little claws and fangs at her.

Patsy was sure some ungodly scream left her mouth as her eyes almost popped out of their sockets from widening to the size of saucers. She was so shocked that she completely let go of the person she was supposed to be helping, instead only managing to simply break their fall as the two women came clamoring down on the floor in a mess of groans and limbs.

The cage the woman had been holding fell to the floor along with them, rolling out the open door and into the garden.

The woman scrambled to her feet and after the cage, leaving a thoroughly disheveled Patsy behind on the floor, the redhead rising to rest on her elbows to watch the woman kick the now empty cage, and in a fit she whipped off her flat cap and threw it to the ground.

'Bastard!' she cursed, looking around for the rodent, 'that's the second time that ruddy poofy-tailed rat has made me lose my hat today, damn it!' she swore again as she kicked her cap.

Patsy watched rather mesmerized to see that this woman looked just like the young man she had met inside, only her long hair was pulled back into a neat bun with softs wisps of black hair falling around her ears and neck. She placed one hand on her hip and the other tucked her hair back behind a small ear, Patsy noting the subtle flex of a strong bicep that looked as if this woman could haul a tree trunk out of the earth without the help of a tractor.

The woman huffed and looked back at Patsy, and Patsy gulped.

'Oh, oh dear,' the woman's anger evaporated on an instant and she scooped up her cap, situating it on her head firmly to hide her bun as she rushed back over to Patsy, 'Miss Mount, gosh, I'm so terribly sorry,' she said, reaching out for Patsy.

Patsy couldn't help but want to take a closer look at this woman now that she knew she actually was a woman. She had makeshift sewn on patches on her thermal top and trousers, a sign of a hard worker, Patsy thought. She watched as the woman pushed up her cap with her thumb, possibly unknowingly exposing to her the faint scar that trailed down her forehead and eyebrow, a little line of skin showing where no hair grew because of it. The woman looked down at Patsy remorsefully with such piercing blue eyes that took Patsy's breath away that she almost forgot she was supposed to be rather peeved at the woman.

'You could have told me about the squirrel,' Patsy gripped as the woman grasped her hands and effortlessly hoisted her to her feet.

'I do apologise, really I do,' the woman said kindly, 'I just didn't want to startle you.'

'Well that plan completely bloody backfired, didn't it?' Patsy said as she pushed back her hair and straightened her skirt, 'was startled by other things, anyway,' she mumbled, eyeing a rather inviting looking pair of breasts made rather apparent through the womans tight thermal top, unbuttoned almost to where she would be exposing cleavage.

'What was that?' she blinked.

Patsy quickly looked away, feeling herself grow red in the face, 'Never you mind,' she quipped.

The woman cleared her throat and took a step back, looking just as flustered as Patsy felt.

'Again, so sorry,' she looked around for a moment, 'can I help you get settled in?' she suggested kindly, reaching for the large suitcase. Patsy was about to warn her that that was the heavy one, but instead she marveled as the woman picked up her typewriter effortlessly and laid it on the bed.

'I think I can manage from here thanks,' Patsy sighed. The adrenaline seemed to have drained from her body from all the excitement with the squirrel and she was feeling rather tired all of a sudden.

'Ah, yes, of course,' the woman said with a nervous smile and moved to exit the bungalow.

She turned around, smiling kindly once again and Patsy raised an eyebrow, finding the woman's dimples quite endearing.

'Um, my name is Delia, by the way, Delia Busby,' she tipped her cap politely like a gentleman would, 'I'm usually around doing the odd thing or another here and there that needs to be done so, well, if something needs fixing you can call on me, alright?'

'Noted,' Patsy said, rather short.

Delia's smile turned to a tight line and she gave a curt nod before she turned, picking up a little metal box with a handle Patsy could only assume was a tool box, before she closed the door behind her.

When she was finally alone with the peace and quiet, Patsy sighed and collapsed on the bed. She actually smiled, thinking after the day she just had, she was thankful that at least the bed seemed cozy and soft.

Her stomach growled and she remembered that Mrs. Busby had said she would be bringing her supper and tea.

The thought had Patsy sitting up, thinking she could at the very least throw some cold water on her face and maybe change into her dressing gown before she arrived.

She rose from the bed and looked around her little ensuite, another room she found to be absolutely charming. Tile flooring with fluffy little rugs around the sink and bath. Floral patterned wallpaper with little white and pink flannels rolled up on the sink, matching very well with the golden trim around the tub. She sighed and looked so very longingly at the tub, but then remembered what she came in there to do.

Patsy turned the handle on the sink and watched as the faucet promptly fell to the side, clamoring noisily in the porcelain bowl.

It happened almost in slow motion, the water now free from the constraints of the faucet, rising to such a height that Patsy had to crane her neck to see how far it rose above her head. She would have thought the stream of clear water created the most beautiful arch as it crested above her, if the end of it hadn't landed squarely on her face, blurring her vision and sending water right up her nose and down her throat.

'Blaugh!' Patsy sputtered as the water pummeled her face. She scrambled to turn the handle and shut the water off, thankful that was the end of that. She caught her breath as water dripped from her face, and she made a noise that reminded her much of Curly from the three stooges and she took both hands and wiped the water clean from her face with both hands.

She slicked back her hair and patted her face and with a dry flannel, snatching up the fallen faucet from off the sink and promptly walking back to the front of her room while muttering to herself, wondering what else could possibly go wrong this evening.

She threw open the door and spotted the Busby girl across the garden, leaning against the side of the main house and casually rolling a loose cigarette.

'Oh, Miss Busby,' Patsy said in an eerily sing-song voice.

Delia stopped what she was doing and looked a site with her eyes wide and tongue poking out slightly as she was just about to lick the wrap.

Patsy leaned against the frame of the door, one hand perched on her hip while the other held up the faucet that popped off the sink.

Delia quickly sealed her cigarette shut and pocketed it, picking up her toolbox and trotting over to Patsy, stopping in her tracks and standing up straight like a soldier called to attention.

'Did you, pray tell,' Patsy said, as she eyed the faucet between her thumb and forefinger, 'happen to have a hand in constructing this new ensuite?'

Delia fidgeted with her hat nervously, licking her lips as she nodded, 'The first big project I did myself, yes.'

'Mmhmm,' Patsy hummed, handing the faucet back to Delia, 'Please be sure to fasten this correctly this time, hmm?'

Delia cleared her throat with a nervous laugh, 'Yes, Miss Mount.'

'And do check the others while you're in there please,' Patsy said as she stepped aside to allow Delia through, thinking she didn't need more water thrown into her face and ruining her hair and makeup.

'Of course Miss Mount,' Delia said, and she tucked under her hat and entered the bungalow without another word.

As Delia worked in the ensuite, Patsy sighed and figured she could start unpacking while she was deprived of her bath for the time being.

She closed the front door and walked over to the other side of the room, opening the window to let some fresh air through. She went back to her large suitcase on the bed and opened it, removing her typewriter and heaved it over to the small writing desk, thankful that that was that last time she would need to move the thing for the next several months.

She went back to her suitcase and retrieved a leather folder, the thing bound shut with a golden buckle. These were her father's papers, his memoirs, all neatly filed and tucked away.

As Delia tinkered away in the ensuite, Patsy became very focused on this folder.

She held it in her hand and grazed over the soft, smooth leather with her other, unbuckling the strap and opening to the first page. It merely stated her fathers title, his name, and the date of his birth and death, the exact date left blank to be filled in by her, she reckoned. She had been waiting until she had gotten here to really dig into these pages, not able to bare reading them on the trip back from Hong Kong as the thought of him passing was still too fresh. Now though, she thought that once she settled in she would finally have the time to read over the documents and make her fathers parting desire to her a reality.

Patsy began to idly flip through the papers, working to be extra careful as her father had mentioned that he had put in the effort to at least order them cronicallogically for her before he became much too ill to work. She appreciated the effort as she scanned the first page, her heart swelling affectionately when she saw the names of herself, her mother, and her late sister mentioned in the forward.

Patsy went to place the folder on the desk next to her typewriter, but as she turned, she noticed a figure appearing where a figure not ought to be.

Her eyes widened as she realized there was a wild animal sticking its head through her window.

Her scream was so shrill that her throat gave out half way. Patsy found herself walking backwards away from the thing, the back of her knees hitting the bed and she fell to the ground flat on her back, her legs up in the hair as her father's memoirs fluttered and fell around her all higgelty piggelty.

'Miss Mount!' Delia shouted as she ran back into the room, appearing upside down when she entered Patsy's line of vision from her spot on the floor.

'What on earth is that… _thing_!?' she shouted. Her heart was beating frantically in her chest and feeling her face turn beet red, Patsy scrambled to sit up and push her skirt down around her knees, peering over the bed slightly to see just what it was in her window, and she saw a fluffy brown pony with a unkempt blonde mane, it's large, sleepy black eyes looking right back at her.

Delia followed her gaze and tisked, 'Oh, Alison!' she said as she rushed over to the window, 'I'm so sorry she gave you a fright Miss Mount, she's completely harmless, just curious...' she trailed off as she placed her hands on the pony's face and gently pushed, saying softly, 'Oh, come on you silly, _Cer i grafu_ ,' she pleaded in Welsh through clenched teeth as she pushed.

Patsy remained safely on the other side of the bed, but her heart sank in her chest as she looked at the mess of papers around her.

Her father's papers had scattered all over the place.

Pony in the window completely forgotten, Patsy picked up one piece of paper, and then another, turning them over in her hands and realizing with a heavy heart that her father had put everything in order but had not numbered the pages.

Suppose he didn't foresee something like this happening, Patsy thought. His own daughter startled by a pony in the window and throwing all his hard work everywhere.

Patsy sighed thinking that she would be spending the summer painstakingly reading through each and every page, not only to edit but to piece everything back together and in order. She began to mope, feeling so tired and drained that she just sat there on the floor looking at the mess, figuring it was best to leave everything as was less any more disasters happened.

'So sorry Miss Mount,' Delia said again as she strided back through the room, 'I'll go outside to see if I can-,'

Delia wasn't off suddenly when she swung open the front door and stepped forward walking g right into Mrs. Busby who happened to be carrying a tray of Patsy's supper and hot tea, the contents spilling all over the two women and clamoring noisily to the hardwood floor.

Typically Patsy would have taken the moment to marvel at the two women who exploded into a series of Welsh swearing, arms flailing, as she sat there on the bedroom floor, but with a dexterity she hadn't thought possible, she managed to dive across the floor on her stomach and snatch up her fathers papers that had landed by the door, saving them from any food, tea, or anything else that could have soiled them. If she couldn't keep them in order, she was going to keep them dry, by George!

The two women carried on with their shouting, completely unaware of Patsy on the floor. Delia eventually made her way past her mother while Mrs. Busby took the opportunity to wack her repeatedly on the rear end with the tray as she passed.

Mrs. Busby fell into a series of apologies to Patsy as she kneeled down to scoop up what was left of her supper from the floor. She hastily collected the plates, flustered, apologizing profusely for her children, etcetera. Patsy didn't really hear much of it as she watched out of the corner of her eye as Alison the pony backed away, replaced by Delia's hands as she closed the window.

Patsy rose from her spot on the floor at the same time as Mrs. Busby, the woman saying she would return momentarily to come and scrub up this mess properly.

Patsy tried to assure her that that wouldn't be necessary as all the wanted now was to be left alone, supper be damned, but Mrs. Busby insisted.

The woman turned to leave before Patsy could argue, leaving the front door wide open.

Patsy gave a tired sigh, looking back a the aftermath of all the chaos that occured, chastising herself for her own clumsiness and making more work for herself.

She shook her head, thinking that she would worry about it later after she had some time to rest.

Patsy walked over to the door to close it, but more shouting caught her attention and Patsy looked over towards the main house to see Mrs. Busby and Delia in a bit of a wrestling match, Delia trying unsuccessfully to push her mother away while the older woman pulled her suspenders down and tugged at her thermal top, managing to lift it up over her poor daughters head, presumably to take it away to be washed.

More swearing ensued as Delia waived her mother off dismissively. Her cap fell off her head and her hair unfurled from its bun, the sight of the woman standing there in her vest and trousers with her hair down nearly made Patsy eyes pop out of her head. She seemed to have forgotten how to breathe as she watched Delia bend down once more to pick up her cap, rake her fingers through her hair and turn towards Fred, the kind grocer having unloaded his delivery and about to be off on his way. Delia didn't seem to mind at all that she wasn't wearing a proper top or that her arms were exposed or her hair down around her shoulders. Patsy certainly didn't mind one bit, that was for sure.

Patsy watched as Delia closed the bed of Fred's truck and slapped the back of it twice before he puttered off, her eyes unable to pull away from those strong arms as they seemed to flex without her even really trying.

'Wow,' Patsy finally breathed, blinking and thinking to herself how bloody gay she was.

She was only broken from her spell of the smaller woman flexing when Delia walked to another small building attached to the house that Patsy had failed to notice before. She disappeared through the door under a little sign that said 'bar' and Patsy felt her spirits lift immensely. Patsy thought to herself that she could very much use a drink right about then. She suddenly craved something alcoholic to calm her nerves at least, and the bottle of merlot she had tucked away in her luggage just wasn't going to cut it for her that evening.

With a sigh, she finally shut the door and stood absolutely still for a moment to take in the peace and quiet, ignoring that there was still a hole in the ceiling, a toolbox and a broken faucet in her ensuite, a mess of food and tea on the floor, and several papers scattered on and around the bed.

Patsy forced a smile and took a nice, big breath in, and then our again.

'No matter,' she said, 'I'm going to freshen up,and then I'm going to have a drink,' she finished positively, pointing a determined finger in the air.

She looked over to her left and saw that Alison the pony was still looking at her through the window, and Patsy strode over to her with a smile and promptly drew the curtains.


	3. Chapter 3

Patsy emerged a little later from the bungalow feeling more relaxed, having removed most of her makeup, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, and changed out of her dress into a simple blue blouse and black trousers.

She left her room in the abhorrent state that it was in, figuring she would worry about it later once she had a drink.

Patsy entered the little bar and saw that it was dark, the walls lined with wood paneling with the odd portrait hanging here and there to spruce up the place. Wood flooring and wooden tables and chairs. Wood wood wood, save for the brick fireplace that had a little orange emblem simmering to keep the place warm. She wondered how many trees were sacrificed when building this attachment.

A rhythmic thumping caught Patsy's attention, and her gaze turned toward the other side of the room where she saw two figures. One standing behind the bar, the newspaper they were reading splayed out across the front of them completely hiding their features, and a very familiar looking brunette who was sitting at the bar, clutching a freshly downed pint glass with one hand while lightly banging her head against the bar. Patsy couldn't help but empathize with the poor woman as she felt like she wanted to be sitting there doing the same thing.

Patsy saw a puff of smoke rise above the newspaper, supposedly coming from the person behind the black and white print. She breathed in deep the scent of loose tobacco smoked from a pipe and sighed at the pleasant scent.

The person with the newspaper must have noticed her presence as Patsy heard them give a sigh and puff on their pipe.

'You're early,' the voice said, apparently female, ''s not even closing time yet. Haven't heard the whistle. What'd you skip out early or something?'

'Closing time? Whistle?' Patsy raised her eyebrow and placed her hands on her hips, 'I have absolutely no idea what you're going on about.'

Delia rose straight up in her seat with a gasp, recognizing Patsy's RP in an instant. She moved so quickly to get away from there that the stool she was sitting on clamored to the floor and she nearly tripped over herself, flailing her arms out wildly to keep her balance as she ducked behind the bar and into the kitchens.

'Blimey,' the woman behind the bar said having watched all this happen, folding her newspaper and setting it down, 'that girls fast as a rabbit isn't she?'

Patsy sighed, a little perplexed at how she found someone so odd so bloody damn attractive.

'She's something alright' she said.

The woman behind the bar regarded Patsy for a moment with a hint of a smirk while she sucked on her pipe.

'Is that a London accent I hear?' she asked.

Patsy listened to the woman closely and observed her. She was tall, thin with cropped brown hair and a strong jawline. Patsy thought she looked rather attractive, no where near having the effect on her as Delia did though, and by the sound of it she was from somewhere on the east end.

'Indeed it is,' she smiled and sauntered over to the bar to take a seat 'I hail from Chelsea. Yourself?'

'Uptown girl, huh?' the woman nodded approvingly as she took out a match, 'I'm from the east end myself. Poplar,' she paused a moment to light her match and relight the tobacco in her pipe, puffing on it until clouds of the sweet smelling smoke billowed around her head, 'Sorry about earlier,' she said, taking another puff of her pipe, 'I thought you was one of the lads from the stone quarry. They usually come in around this time and pack the place.'

'Ah,' Patsy said, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, patting her pockets for her lighter while her cigarette dangled from her mouth.

'Not to worry love, I've got it for ya,' the woman said as she struck a match.

She lit Patsy's cigarette and Patsy nodded in thanks.

'So what brings someone like you all the way out here, hmm?' the woman asked.

'Could ask the same for you,' Patsy smirked, 'I've come for the spring and summer to work on a personal project.'

'My, that's quite a bit of time,' the woman mused.

'Well time is all I have at the moment,' Patsy said as she took a drag, 'figured I'd come out to the country where there's peace and quiet,' she shook her head, thinking to herself that with all the chaos that transpired in the hour that she had been there, she probably would have been better off staying in the city.

'Project, hmm?' the woman said as she picked up Delia's empty glass and began to clean it, 'what kind of project then?'

'Oh, well, I think I fancy myself a writer,' Patsy admitted, 'I've one project I'm working on for my late father and another I'm hoping will just come to me. You know, something that will help me make my mark in the world of literature instead of the rubbish I dish out to keep the lights on in my flat.'

'Writer, ay,' the woman smiled, 'wouldn't have pegged you as an artist.'

Patsy furrowed her brow, 'Why ever not?'

The woman waived her pipe at Patsy, regarding her appearance, 'Well you don't look like one for starts. Too bubbly and colorful. Thought you had to wear all black and be a broody alcoholic to be a true artist.'

'Bunch of frauds, that lot is,' Patsy rolled her eyes, 'in their turtlenecks, snapping their fingers and thinking repeating one word over and over again is poetry. Feh,' she said dismissively as she smoked her cigarette, 'I'm sure the pony at my window can produce better after eating a barrel of apples than that lot… not that I expect this place to be the cultural mecca and hub that London is.'

'Oh, you'd be surprised out here,' the woman mused as she busied herself with cleaning something, 'You know, tonight there's going to be-,' she stopped suddenly and slowly turned to look at Patsy.

Patsy blew out a line of smoke and tilted her head, looking back at the woman just as inquisitively.

'What'd you say your name was again?' the woman asked sounding rather mystified.

'I didn't,' Patsy said as she blew out a line of smoke. She sat up in her chair and proclaimed, 'Patsy Mount.'

The woman behind the bar looked at her skeptically, eyeing the redhead up and down.

'Patsy Mount. As in Patience Mount the writer?' she asked.

'That is what I said, yes?'

The woman smirked and pulled the flannel off her shoulder and slapped it against the bar, 'Aw, you're telling porkies, mate, come on,' the woman leaned against the bar on her elbow.

'I'm doing what now?' Patsy asked, not quite understanding her cockney.

'You're lying,' she elaborated, 'You're really Patience Mount? Author of the Spitalfields Spitfire series?'

Patsy felt a nervous tingle crawl up her spine as she broke out into a shy grin, 'Oh no, please don't tell me you've read that rubbish!'

'Oh, of course I've read it! And I have to admit I'm a great admirer of your work.'

'Didn't think anyone outside of London even knew of it!' Patsy admitted shyly, taking a drag of her cigarette.

'Well I'm from London, aren't I? Of course I know about it! Every lesbian in the UK's probably read it, I reckon.'

'That still doesn't mean it's any good,' Patsy gripped, 'queer women are so starved for content that they'll pick up just about anything.'

'Oh stop it with that nonsense. It's a great series. Besides, not true about all lesbians mind,' she sighed with an air of disappointment, 'Been trying to get Delia to read it for ages now but she's not having it.'

'Delia?' Patsy asked, suddenly enthralled.

'Oh, yeah. Woman's as gay as a maypole but she tells me she's just not into it,' she said, 'Isn't interested in reading about the lives of the upper crust flitting from one relationship to another,' she paused for a moment to look at Patsy reassuringly, 'oh, but don't take me wrong miss, I absolutely love the stories. Can't get enough of them. Great escapism, seeing as I'm stuck here for the time being and all that.'

'Well why doesn't she like it?' Patsy asked, feeling rather nervous to hear the answer.

'Who? Delia?'

Patsy nodded, hoping she wasn't being too obvious. She cleared her throat slightly and shrugged, trying to look at least a little disinterested, 'I'm curious to know what everyone thinks of my work, good and bad. Constructive criticism makes my work better, I think,' she added.

'Oh, you know,' the woman looked up in thought, 'she's more down to earth and the like. Would rather read some fluff romance than a bunch of posh biddies in the city she can't relate to getting on with one another.'

Patsy hummed as she took a drag of her cigarette and listened.

'She likes the happy ending. Falling in love and marriage and all that rubbish. Not for me personally, but I think that was just how she was raised, you know?' she shrugged as she wiped a glass clean with her flannel, 'Her folks are like that. All I've ever seen them do is bicker but I've caught them in their moments. Seem like a happy couple,' she sighed, 'I reckon Delia wants that for herself too, a wife and a house full of kids. I tell her pickings wouldn't be so slim if she moved back to the city but she's not interested. She was rather slighted, ya see, out in the pubs and all that.'

'How so?' Patsy asked, finding it hard to believe anyone would want to turn down the advances of someone she thought was quite adorable.

'Just had a bit of bad luck with some of the more stuck up girls, telling her she didn't fit in. Looked too much like a boy for their liking. Delia's a stubborn one though, refuses to change cause that's just how she is, she's comfortable dressing the way she does. I think she's letting up a little on it, though. Started growing her hair out so people would stop mistaking her for a boy.'

Patsy grumbled, feeling a pang of guilt hit the pit of her stomach remembering how she had referred to Delia as 'young man' when she first saw her.

'Anyway, she's got strong convictions, that one. Would rather be alone than be with the wrong person. Any girl would be lucky to have her but she's picky, which is a right shame. She's setting herself up to be alone a long time, what with pickings being rather slim for girls like us out here in the country, you know?'

'Are you…,' Patsy stopped herself, wondering if she wanted to know the answer. She rephrased her question, 'So, how do you know all this? How do you know Delia?'

'Oh, we've been mates for ages. Met at nursing school in London and became fast friends,' the woman smiled, finishing off the last of her pipe and tapping the tobacco out into a rubbish bin.

'You're nurses?' Patsy asked, rather surprised, yet relieved to learn the two were not together romantically.

'Ah. well, used to be, I suppose,' she shrugged, 'See, I uh… well my license was revoked.'

Patsy's eyes widened, 'Oh dear!'

'Not because I'm a bad nurse, mind!' the woman insisted, 'just have a bit of a temper I suppose. Was taking care of a bedridden gentleman once who had extendable arms it seemed. Every time I walked past him he was able to reach out and pinch my arse. By the tenth time, I grabbed him before he could lay a hand on me and…'

'What?' Patsy asked captivated, 'what did you do?'

'Might of broke his thumb,' she winced.

Patsy gasped, 'You didn't!'

'Don't know what came over me, just grabbed the thing and twisted it back. The old man's bones were so brittle, a gust of wind could have ended him at that point.'

'Wow,' Patsy said, enthralled.

'So naturally, I was in a bit of trouble after that. Thankfully he didn't press charges, but I was barred from nursing and out of a job, and then Delia had her incident…'

'Incident?' Patsy asked, wondering if she was referring to the scar on Delia's forehead.

The woman shrugged, 'Eh, sorry, that's not really my story to tell, but I mean, I'm sure she'll tell ya if you asked…' the woman stopped for a moment and shook her head, 'Oh, where are me manners,' she extended her hand, 'names Valerie Dyer, but you can call me Val, everyone does.'

'Pleasure,' Patsy said as she shook her hand.

'Anyway,' Val sighed, 'Delia was unable to work for a time and her Mam was worried about her afterwards, so she came and collected her. Delia knew I needed a job too, so I tagged along, and here I am, pulling pints here in Pembrokeshire. Delia's family has always had this place. Been building onto it for years now trying to make it a good place to have a holiday, the lake and golf courses being close by and all that. It's a nice enough place for a holiday, but I've been saving my wages with plans on getting out of here someday.'

'Getting out?' Patsy asked.

'Well sure!' Val said, 'I mean, it's a beautiful place to be but there's fuck all to do here! Oh, er…' she cleared her throat with a blush, 'pardon my language.'

Patsy gave a shrug with a smirk, signaling she didn't care.

Valerie took this as a sign to continue, 'Haven't ever left the country, have I? I have dreams too, you know. Been saving to go someplace like America or Brazil, Australia or China. Life is short, you know? I want to go out and explore before I settle down… ' she spoke softly, 'if I ever do.'

Patsy smiled as took a drag of her cigarette.

'Now, can I get you anything to drink before the place is full of smelly men? Not my cup of tea mind, but I open up a button or two on my blouse here and the tips just come rolling in.'

'I believe it,' Patsy nodded, nodding appreciatively to Valerie's chest.

'These threepenny bits are good for something at least,' Val said as she whipped the flannel over her shoulder again, 'So, all anyone around here orders is beer or whiskey straight,' Val sighed, 'but we have this full bar here,' she gestured behind her, 'and I'm sure a sophisticated woman like you will ask me to make her something a bit more complicated so I can show off my bar tending skills.'

Patsy let out a little laugh, 'Oh, well I don't know about that. Feel like a sophisticated woman wouldn't have fallen over as many times as I did today,' she sighed and looked back to Val, 'Is a gimlet too simple for you? I'm really craving some gin right about now.'

'Not at all. Finally gives me an excuse to use these babies,' she grinned as she pulled out a metal set of mixer cups and slammed them down on the table.

Patsy leaned back in her chair and smoked the last of her cigarette as Valerie hummed to herself happily, performing a bit of entertaining acrobatics with her cups, doing things like tossing them, flipping them up and around her head and catching them behind her back. She scooped up a cup full of ice, added the gin and mixer and shook them together around her head, whistling a tune. She slammed the the cups down and reached behind her for a cocktail glass, Patsy watching the glassware anxiously as Val spun it around on her index finger before placing it down on the bar. She strained the cocktail into the glass and slid it in front of Patsy, taking a moment to garnish the drink with a lime before she wiggled her fingers, saying 'Ta-da!'

'My, that was quite impressive,' Patsy mused.

'Would you believe me if I told you I have a lot of time to fill out here? I mean _a lot_ ,' Val emphasized.

'So you're basically here all day practicing?'

'Yes, and Mrs. Busby absolutely does not need to know how many cocktail glasses I've broken working to perfect that move,' Valerie looked around suspiciously and Patsy giggled at her antics.

Both women turned their head towards the entrance of the pub at the sound of men clamoring and carrying on, growing louder and louder.

'Oh no, you got me chatting and I didn't even hear the whistle go off,' Valerie said.

She quickly grabbed another glass and poured what was left over from her mixing cups and handed it to Patsy.

'You take another serving, yeah, god knows you won't be able to make it back to the bar when they all get here,' she nodded to the other side of the room, 'go and grab that seat by the window. It's the best seat in the house.'

'For what?' Patsy asked, but she was shooed off before Val could answer.

The door to the bar burst open and a gaggle of scruffy looking men walked through, tired and dusty with ragged clothing and 5 o'clock shadows. They looked like they should be exhausted at the end of the days work, but with it being Saturday night and having the next day off, they seemed to be in jovial spirits.

Patsy grabbed her seat across the room and was amazed at how full the place became of boisterous men, chatting and laughing and carrying on. The place filled with smoke and other noise, men shouting over each other to greet one another or call out their order at the pub. Patsy opened the window next to her to get a bit of fresh air, even though she had already started another cigarette herself.

Valerie appeared suddenly through the crowd with a smile, carrying a tray and a fresh drink.

'Fresh from the kitchen for ya. Mrs. Busby also says your drinks are on the house tonight for the evening you've had,' she laughed as she placed a steaming how bowl of something that had Patsy's mouth watering in front of her, 'I reckon they must have cocked something up pretty bad to offer that!'

When Valerie wedged her way through the crowd and back to the bar, Patsy dug into her meal enthusiastically, barely even recognizing that it was a delicious beef stew with mash and buttered bread. It was the hearty meal she absolutely needed after her long day, and she didn't care how unladylike she looked in that moment, not thinking anyone in the pub would care anyway.

Patsy was so engrossed in her meal that she barely saw three cloaked figures walking through the grounds, seemingly hobbling along before they entered the pub. Though, upon closer inspection as the came into the light, they weren't cloaks at all. They were habits.

'Oh, now the party can really get started,' one man boasted from nearby as the three sisters walked in. The rather round, bulldoged one eyed him with a smirk.

'You still owe me recompense from the game of darts you lost to me last week,' she said, placing her hands on her hips, the gentleman she was addressing tucked his chin to his chest shyly while his friends chided him. The other sister in her group rolled her eyes and guided the oldest of the three to a table that was cleared for them at once.

Patsy watched on curiously as it seems these women commanded a lot of respect from the locals.

'I require sustenance,' the older one gripped, squinting her eyes as other one pulled out a chair for her by the fire.

'Yes, yes, Sister Monica Joan,' she said as she pulled out a chair for the nearly blind woman near the fireplace.

'I think a slice of cake will do.'

'You will need to have something more nutritious first,' the other woman scolded before she took her seat.

'I hope it's pound cake.'

The other woman sighed and rolled her eyes, waiving to Val at the bar, who waved back. It seemed they were regulars here and Val knew the drill.

Patsy continued on with her supper as she observed two new men enter the pub, one of them being the chap that was supposed to pick her up from the station but forgot, Michael, if she remembered correctly. He was with another lad that looked just like him. Brothers? They stopped by the bar for a drink and then walked to the middle of the room, Patsy noticing now they carried with them instruments. A banjo and a fiddle.

The two stopped and settled in at a table, the one with the banjo taking a seat while Michael situated his fiddle on his chin and began tuning it.

'Oi, where's the other one?' a drunk man called out.

'She'll be by,' the one with the banjo said as he plucked his string to tune the instrument.

'Oh come on now, we want to hear it,' he griped.

'Stop your bellyaching,' another man cried out before he leaned over and swatted at his friend, 'Dylan, why don't you tell the lads what you told me earlier, huh?'

The man stood from his seat and removed his cap, looking as if he were going to pontificate as the others around him hushed and gave him their attention.

'Me wife asked if I was having an affair with a woman from Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwyllllatysiliogogogoch,'

Patsy stopped mid chew at the ridiculously long town name.

'I said to her: How can you say such a thing?' the man finished, looking serious.

The pub broke out in uproarious laughter and the man sat down in his seat again, and it was then that Patsy realized he was telling a joke.

Another man raised his glass and shouted to draw everyone's attention to him.

'I've got one,' he said and cleared his throat, 'Three friends married women from different parts of the world. The first married a Greek girl and told her that she was to do the dishes and cleaning. It took a couple of days, but on the third day he came home to see a clean house.

The second man married a Spanish girl and gave her the same orders, to do all the cleaning and cooking. The first day he didn't see any results but by the third his house was clean and dinner was on the table.

The third man married a Welsh girl. He ordered her to keep the house clean, dishes washed, the clothing ironed, and dinner ready for 6pm.

For the first two days he didn't see anything, but by the third day, some of the swelling had gone down and he could see a little out of his left eye.'

The man made a face as if he had the same injuries he described as the crowd broke out into uproarious laughter once more, Patsy even chuckling a little herself at the punchline.

The redhead leaned back in her chair and pushed her empty bowl away from her, it practically scraped clean as she had been ravished. She lit another cigarette and sipped her drink as another figure caught her attention.

'Oh there she is!' a man called out.

'Here she comes,' another laughed and most of the men around them broke out into cheers.

Patsy watched Delia emerge from the kitchens, hastily tucking in her green and black checkered top into her bluejeans. Delia grinned at the crowd and waved them off as they carried on and laughed around her. She looked rather cute, Patsy thought, having just changed from her day outfit to something a little more casual and festive. The sleeves rolled up to her elbow gave her a rather appealing look at those strong forearms as she situated her mandolin in front of her. Delia only had eyes for her brothers though and they huddled close and spoke quietly to themselves.

'Play it!'

'Come on you lot, play the song!'

'Sing it Delia!'

The rowdy crowd called out more demands that went ignored by the trio as they prepared themselves, finally breaking away with the lad with the banjo counting off, the three siblings playing at once and the crowd breaking into cheers and hollars.

It was a rather cheery tune, Patsy thought, one that had Delia smiling at least as she and her brothers watched each other and played. After a few lines, she began to sing.

 _My heart is a blue stone mountain_

 _My head an overflowing fountain_

 _My heart is a blue stone mountain_

 _But I never knew, I never knew, I never knew, never knew, I never knew, I never knew…_

Patsy observed the men in the room clapping along, many stomping their feet or their hands against the table. She looked over and even saw the three sisters, the older one now happily situated with a piece of cake and a glass of milk, while the other two sipped brandy from small glasses. The women were swaying along and tapping their fingers against the table in time with the tune. Patsy thought the three women looked rather adorable.

 _When I woke up this morning_

 _And I saw a new dawn in_

 _Ooh I woke up this morning_

 _But I never knew, I never knew, I never knew, never, never, I never knew, I never knew..._

Delia closed her eyes and tilted her head back as she let out a series of ' _Ooh's_ as she stomped her foot in time with the music.

Patsy was absolutely mesmerized watching her. Was this really the same woman she had met only a little over an hour ago? The same woman who seemed so odd and awkward? Was she really leading a song, standing up in front of a group of people and driving up the energy in the room with her musical talent and voice? And goodness, what a voice, Patsy thought. The girl could sing!

The three siblings played on as Delia started another verse. The men around her were cheering, someone sticking their fingers in their mouth to give a loud whistle in support of the three playing as others began to dance around them. Patsy had never seen a more enthusiastic group of people, not in a long time. She started to feel like she wanted to get up and dance herself.

Delia sang the chorus one last time, and the three siblings looked at one another to watch for cues to change their tempo and play the song out. When the song came to an end there was applause and cheers from the men and Valerie made her way through the crowd to bring Delia a beer and give her a supportive pat on the shoulder. Patsy watched rather impressed as Delia gulped it down and turned back to her brothers to play another tune.

Patsy finished off her drinks and the gin was having her feel quite giddy as she had herself yet another cigarette as the trio started up another song. It was just as energetic as the first with Delia singing. Some of the men joined in, and others continued to clap and laugh or just carry on among themselves. The whole pub was filled with a joyous energy that Patsy had forgotten all about the stressful day she had had or the mess that awaited her in her room.

A few more songs were played, Patsy enjoying the folksy tunes immensely, before they three stopped to take a break. They all parted in separate directions to talk with folks or head to the bar for a pint.

All Patsy wanted to do was talk to Delia and tell her what an amazing singer she was, how she seemed full of life and talent.

Patsy rose from her seat, swaying slightly from the booze, thinking Valerie certainly knew how to make a strong drink. She at the very least had the cognitive ability to duck when a dart flew by, just barely grazing the skin of her nose as it plunked against the board beside her.

'Oi, big red.'

Patsy looked over to see the more cheeky of the sisters glaring at her playfully with a group of gentlemen standing by.

'You mind getting out of the way so you don't lose an eye?' she said, waving her hand dismissively, 'You make a better door than a window.'

Patsy gave a tight smile, mumbling an apology to the sister and scooted out of the way through the crowd.

She looked around and couldn't seem to find the green and black checkered shirt that Delia had come in wearing. She couldn't find the woman at all. The brothers were close by, drinking their pints while carrying on with a few of the other men. Valerie looked rather busy behind the bar pulling pints.

More smoke billowing from the crowd made it hazy in the small bar. The men around her continued to carry on as they drank, filling the pub once again with shouting and laughter and the clinking of glasses as they toasted to the end of another days hard work.

Patsy sighed, with a heavy heart thinking that she didn't have the energy to stick around much longer. She felt a wave of exhaustion flow through her, and all she wanted to do then was go to bed after having such a long day traveling. A little bit of dread filled the pit of her stomach as she remembered the mess in her room that still needed to be taken care of before she tucked in for the night. She decided then that praising Delia for her musical talents would need to wait until tomorrow.

She pushed her way through the noisy crowd and left the pub, enjoying the instantaneous quiet as the door shut behind her, the cool temperature of the night hitting her skin as she moved to walk through the gardens and back to her bungalow.

But before she could get very far, a figure caught her eye. It was Delia, standing in the shadows behind the door to the pub having a fag.

Patsy turned to face her and Delia's expression turned to one of panic, the smaller woman quickly putting out her cigarette and waiving the smoke away.

'Oh, uh, hello Miss Mount,' she said rather nervously, 'I didn't realize you were in there. Is there something you need?'

Patsy felt extremely happy to see her, walking right up to her with a smile on her face and ignoring that the woman seemed stiff with nerves as she approached.

'Delia, I was hoping I would have a chance to talk to you.'

'You were?' Delia looked rather surprised to hear this.

Patsy nodded, a pang of guilt hitting her slightly as she recalled their earlier encounter.

'Yes. I just wanted to tell you that I'm so very sorry I was short with you earlier,' she started, and Delia's expression seemed to soften, 'I've just had a long day of traveling and was pretty tired…' Patsy trailed off, truly feeling quite bad about her behavior.

'That's alright Miss Mount,' Delia cut in, waving her hands in front of her, 'I know you've come here to relax. It was my fault your room wasn't properly ready before you arrived. I'm so sorry.'

Patsy held her hand up to politely silence her 'Delia… it's all no matter. I was still rather rude and I apologize,' Patsy took a breath and continued, 'besides, I'm going to be here for quite some time and I don't want us to get off on the wrong foot now. I would very much like it if we could become friends,' she finished with a hopeful smile.

'Oh,' Delia said, looking a little more cheery and rocking on her heels slightly, 'well thank you Miss Mount, I think I would like that very much.'

A little voice in the back of Patsy's head insisted that she would happily be more than friends but she ignored it. She didn't want to seem too forward. She didn't want to seem desperate, because she certainly was not desperate. No, not at all, she tried to convince herself, not even after a six month dry spell from being away in Hong Kong and mourning her fathers death. No, the lack of love and sex and another womans touch wasn't just catching up to her now in this moment having her think inappropriate things about a woman she just met two hours ago. She was just merely interested in getting to know Delia in a platonic way. She could think that Delia was platonically handsome, with a beautiful singing voice and dimples she could fall into, and strong hands that she would watch turn a wrench for hours.

Patsy blinked out of her thoughts and subtly wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth.

'Delia, I have to tell you, you have such a beautiful voice, and you and your brothers play so wonderfully together,' she gushed, butterflies swarming in her tummy as she saw Delia was grinning at her compliments, 'it was such a pleasure to hear you play and sing this evening. The music you make is absolutely gorgeous.'

'Oh, Miss Mount, you don't… It's nothing special,' Delia remarked, looking down shyly. Even in the dim light Patsy could make out the blush that feathered across her cheeks and she found her just so terribly cute.

'Nonsense, Delia,' Patsy said, finding the woman's dimples rather endearing, 'You absolutely light up the room when you sing! It's amazing!' Patsy couldn't help herself and she gave a grin that matched Delia's. She felt so happy that she was making Delia smile like this.

There was an energy, an aura around Delia as she smiled and shyly waived off Patsy's compliments; the woman practically glowing and Patsy felt herself drawn to the woman, as if some force was pulling her in, closer. She wanted to scoop her up and hold her, she found her so terribly cute.

Both woman were caught off guard when the door to the pub burst open, swinging all the way on its hinges and hitting Patsy square in the back. She propelled forward and pinned Delia against the wall, the smaller woman having the dexterity to wrap her arms around Patsy so she wouldn't fall.

Well, Patsy thought, seems someone out there heard her desires and brought them to fruition, though she wished it hadn't happened to abruptly.

Patsy stood completely still, her arms flat against the wall on either side of Delia's head, forcing the woman to tuck her face into the crook of her neck. She didn't dare move, or breathe. The only part of her that she couldn't control was her heartbeat, which pounded frantically as the two woman stood still as statues listening for whomever opened the door to go away.

'Sister Evangelina! Be careful!' a woman cried out, 'Almost knocked the door right off the hinges…'

''Scuse me, Sister Julienne,' the larger of the nuns said gruffly, 'you know how enthusiastic I get after a successful game of darts,' she finished rather smug. She reached back and swung the door shut behind them, and Patsy could feel Delia clutch her fists even tighter on her top, pulling her in so she was pressed flush against her. Patsy had to resist swallowing the lump that formed in her throat.

'It was rather riveting to watch!' the oldest of them exclaimed, giving a gummy smile.

'Shut that bloke right up, didn't I?' Evangelina stated proudly, 'thought he could outdo me, but I showed him.'

Patsy noted that the three women leaving the pub didn't seem to notice her and Delia in their rather tight embrace behind them. She chanced letting out a breath of air and breathing again slowly, only her senses were filled with the delightful scent of tobacco, earth, and lavender, a combination that was uniquely Delia's.

Patsy blamed what happened next on the combination of her hormones, the booze she had earlier, the desire to be close to Delia, and the adrenaline that was coursing through her at the excitement of hiding from the nuns, the thrill of being caught in that moment wrapped up in Delia's arms reminded her of her school days and she was suddenly feeling particularly daring. Patsy tuned out the sounds of the women behind her bickering and tilted her head down ever so slightly, the tip of her nose just ghosting over the shell of Delia's ear as she breathed, slowly out, then slowly in. She felt the woman against her shiver in response and Patsy felt her knees go weak at her reaction.

'I do wish you would stop playing for money,' Julienne chided as she interlocked her elbow with Sister Monica Joan.

'Ah, you know I never take it. Most I'll ever accept is a spot of brandy from the boys,' Evangelina said, miming throwing a dart into the night, 'makes my aim much better, doesn't it?'

Patsy heard Julienne sigh, and she could just imagine the woman rolling her eyes.

The three women continued to titter as they walked off into the night, their voices fading away and replaced with the muffled noises of the men carrying on back in the pub.

Patsy felt Delia slowly loosen her grip on her and she backed away, feeling rather nervous herself. She got a good look at Delia's face and the woman seemed rather petrified.

'Phew,' Patsy said with a smile, 'that was a close one!' she grinned, hoping her attempt at humor would help alleviate Delia's nerves.

Before Delia could respond, Patsy heard a loud _bang!_ and before she could assess just what the heck that noise was, she was grasped by the arm and swept into Delia's arms. The brunette quickly reached out to place her hand on the door to keep it from colliding with them a second time.

Patsy had been spun around so fast it took her mind a moment to catch up. She felt light as a feather in Delia's strong arms, and she blinked her eyes open to see the brunette looking very protective.

'This probably isn't the best place to stand,' Delia mumbled.

Ok, Patsy thought, maybe she was just growing annoyed.

'I've gathered,' Patsy replied.

'Oh, there you are Deels,' Michael said as he peered around the door, nodding his head back to the pub. He seemingly did not acknowledge nor care that Patsy was in his sister's arms at the moment, 'Come on now, we've got to get back on.'

Michael disappeared back into the pub and Delia helped Patsy back to her full height a safe distance away from the door.

She cleared her throat nervously, 'Erm, sorry about that.'

Patsy was still rather in a daze. She blinked and tucked a loose strand behind her ear, 'Oh, um, it's quite alright,' she smiled back at the brunette as she felt herself compose, 'I daresay you've saved me from a concussion.'

Delia gave another shy smile and opened the door again, holding it open for Patsy.

'Are you coming in?' she asked.

'Ah, no, I think I've had all the action I can take for one evening,' Patsy replied, apologetically holding up her hands with a smile, 'I'm completely knackered anyway and will happily listen to you play from the coziness of that big bed in there.'

Delia smiled, 'As you like,' she nodded politely, 'good night Miss Mount.'

'Good night…' Patsy trailed off as she watched Delia disappear back into the pub, the door clicking softly behind her.

Patsy sighed and closed her eyes, shaking her head as she turned back towards her bungalow. What on Earth was it about that Busby girl that had her so flustered?

Delia's musical voice carried through to outside the pub that had Patsy smiling again.

Oh, right.

She needed to call Trixie in the morning. She needed to talk to someone about this peculiar woman.

When Patsy opened her door, she flicked on the switch beside her and was pleasantly surprised to find her room in a much more different state than she had left it.

For one, the door to the attic was closed up. No more hole in the ceiling. The mess on the floor had been wiped clean and the wood flooring shined back at her. All her papers had been collected and were sitting neat and tidy in their folder on her desk next to her typewriter, a small stone holding down the stack so they wouldn't blow away.

Patsy closed the door behind her and went to the en suite to see that had also been cleaned. No more toolbox or water all over the floor. She crossed her fingers and slowly turned the handle on the faucet and it worked perfectly.

The redhead breathed a sigh of relief as she finally kicked off her shoes and went about her nightly routine, brushing her teeth and hair, removing all her make up and changing into a comfortable nightgown.

She finally fell into bed and cozied up under the blankets, closing her eyes and allowing for the sweet sounds of Delia's voice and music carrying into her room from the pub to lure her to into a deep sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Patsy stirred from her deep slumber to the sound of bells chiming somewhere off in the distance outside. They were close and loud enough to wake her, that was for sure.

She took a deep breath, as best as she could with her head in the pillows, and raised her head. Patsy groaned and cracked an eye open, rolling over onto her back and taking a blurry look around. Small room. Typewriter in the corner. En suite. Doilies.

Oh, right. She was at the inn.

She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and stretched, giving out a loud groan before reaching over to the bedside table to clumsily feel around for her wristwatch. She brought the thing close to her face and squinted one eye at it, reading that it was 8 in the morning.

What on earth were these bells? Why were they ringing so damn early? Was it going to be like this every morning?

Patsy rose from her bed and approached the window by her desk, opening it and sticking her head out slightly to look in the direction of the bells.

There was a church over the hill, and like any other church it was built from stone, the towers rising high and headstones poking out catty corner around the gardens of the property. This must be where those nuns came from the night before. The vicar looked to be a youngish man, probably her age, Patsy thought, as he stood outside the front doors greeting people as they walked in.

Patsy shook her head, marveling at how people could get up so early for church. She never cared for it herself, having had to attend on a nearly daily basis at her Catholic boarding school growing up as a child. She figured she had had enough church for one's lifetime. Besides. She had things to do. Like writing.

Yes, writing. She would certainly sit down and do some of that sometime today, but first there was a little matter of getting her day started. And maybe breakfast. And dressed, she needed to get dressed. _Then_ she could write, for sure.

But first, tea.

Patsy walked to the door and placed her hand on the knob, then stopped suddenly.

What if Delia was out there? Certainly she couldn't be seen wearing her pyjamas and no makeup. Her hair and teeth weren't even brushed. What was she thinking!?

Delia. Patsy's thoughts turned to the night before, her mind working fervently to recall every detail of their encounter outside the pub after she had seen and heard her play her music. She felt her face grow hot remembering their encounter outside the pub, how she felt about being in her arms and close to the woman. Patsy couldn't remember the last time she had such a reaction to someone like that. She said to herself she would call Trixie to talk about it.

Trixie!

Patsy looked around and saw a simple rotary telephone sitting on her bedside table. She walked over and sat back down on her bed, picking the phone off the receiver and began to dial Trixies number.

As she dialed, Patsy was becoming increasingly impatient as the dial clicked clicked clicked in its slow rotation. She gave an aggravated sigh.

Why did Trixie have to have so many nines in her number?!

The line finally rang on the other end and Patsy stood, picking up the phone and pacing back and forth along the bed, being mindful not to get tangled up in the wire.

'Beatrix Franklin speaking?' came her tired but polite voice.

'Trix, it's me.'

'Pats! Wow, that was fast! I didn't plan to hear from you for at least a week!... whats wrong?' Trixie asked, her voice suddenly serious.

'Trixie, nothing is wrong, everything is confoundingly wonderful,' Patsy replied.

'Then what are you calling me for so soon?'

Trixie paused and Patsy could hear Trixie on the other line light up a cigarette.

'I just… had the most peculiar day yesterday is all and I need to tell you about it.'

'Ooh,' Trixie said in a way that Patsy knew she was gearing up to hear a bit of juicy gossip, 'tell me what happened!'

Patsy went on to relay her journey from the day before, her ride in the truck with the pig, the woman hanging from her ceiling, the squirrel, the mess of food and papers, and the whole debacle with the bathroom sink.

'Oh my good giddy aunt, I would leave,' Trixie said on the other line, rather shocked.

'Really?'

'Absolutely!' she exclaimed, 'I would have run far, far away from that place as soon as I saw a woman hanging from a ceiling. She dropped a ferocious squirrel on you, Patsy! It could have scratched your eyes out! What is the matter with you, why are you still there!?'

'Well you see,' Patsy cringed slightly predicting Trixies reaction, but before she could continue she heard a noise.

Patsy turned and gave a start, gasping and swearing to herself at the sight of Alison the pony suddenly appearing in her window again.

'What's the matter?' Trixie asked.

Patsy shook her head, glaring at the thing, 'Nothing, there's just this… this _pony_ that likes to poke it's head through my window.'

'A _what_?'

'A pony, Trixie,' she said, waiving the phone at it, 'You know. A small horse!'

'A small horse has its head through your window?!'

'Yes. It's name is Alison and has taken a liking to me for some reason or another...'

Patsy stopped for a moment, looking past Alison out onto the grounds where she caught sight of a familiar brunette walking along, wearing a white undershirt with a pair of blue dungarees that had multicoulored patches not unlike the trousers she wore the day before. She was followed by two adorably fluffy dogs that bounded happily around her. Little puffs of smoke rose above her head as she sucked on a pipe. She had a satchel over her shoulder and carried something small under her arm as she walked down a dirt path, disappearing through the trees as the puppies followed after her.

Alison hiffed and shook her head, her unkempt mane falling over her eyes and bringing Patsy back to her room.

'Pats?'

'Trixie, do you remember when I said I came here so I wouldn't be distracted?'

'Hmm.'

Patsy pulled the phone away from her ear so she could speak directly into the mouthpiece.

'Well I'm terribly, terribly distracted!'

'What's her name?' Trixie said knowingly. Patsy could almost imagine the woman blithely looking at her nails as if she expected this to happen.

'Delia,' Patsy sighed wistfully.

'Ooh, pretty name,' Trixie remarked.

'This is her family's place, the inn. She works here. She's Welsh… and she was the woman hanging from the ceiling yesterday!'

'Good grief,' Trixie gripped, and Patsy could just imagine her rolling her eyes.

'She's the handyman, er, woman. She built the en suite in my room. She's a musician, too! She can sing, and she's so cute and strong and handsome. Trix, I can't… I don't know what's come over me.'

'Wait,' Trixie said, 'The handyman? Handsome? Patsy, is she butch?!'

'Yes!' Patsy cried out.

'What! Patsy! She sounds so unlike who you typically go for!'

'I know! That's why I'm so confused! I don't know what it is? I'm panicking here, Trixie. I'm gay and I'm panicking!' Patsy cried into the phone, practically hyperventilating.

'Alright, calm down you goof. Don't want to have a fit now. I'm just so surprised you're making such a fuss about her. Butch, Patsy? Really?'

'Hey now, there's nothing wrong with that!' Patsy cried defensively, 'Besides, she's not like a boy at all… I mean, alright she looks a little like a boy but it's so charming! She has a beautiful smile and gorgeous body. She's strong, too. I feel so safe in her arms Trix,' Patsy sighed again at the thought of being held by her the night before.

'Wait how…? Patsy has this woman _held_ you?'

'I fell and she caught me,' Patsy elaborated.

'Oh boy, this sounds like it's heading in the direction of one of your novels,' Trixie tisked.

'Oh,' Patsy bristled, 'it's nothing like that.'

'How so?'

'Well for one she's nothing like any of the characters I've created. Doesn't seem to be like anyone I've ever met in real life before, come to think. She's sweet, for one.'

'I'm sweet,' Trixie retorted.

'Yes Trixie, and so is Barbara. That's why you two are my best friends,' she said with a smile.

'She says hello by the way, and she's sorry she couldn't come with us to see you off at the station.'

'Oh, that's no bother,' Patsy said as she moved to lay down on her bed.

She landed on the soft duvet with a light thump and sighed, turning her head to look over at Alison who silently watched on.

'Trix, I've got it bad,' Patsy continued, 'I think I like her, but she's terrified of me.'

'Well you are rather stunning,' Trixie replied.

'Oh, well I don't know about that,' Patsy pursed her lips, thinking of the state she was currently in with her hair a mess, no makeup and in a rumpled pair of pyjamas.

'Pats, listen to me,' Trixie said, 'you're gorgeous and wealthy. She might just be intimidated by you?'

'What? Why? I'm harmless!'

'Are you?'

Patsy gasped, offended, 'And just what do you mean by that!'

'You can be rather impulsive,' Trixie remarked, trailing off.

Patsy narrowed her eyes, 'I have absolutely no idea what you mean by that-,'

Trixie cut her off, '...and also rather aggressive.'

Patsy gasped, 'Says who!' her voice grew dark and demanding, 'Tell me their names, Trixie!'

Trixie ignored her, 'You're aggressive in the sense that you just pounce on whomever you like,'

Patsy pouted, cutting in, 'I do not.'

'and you get away with it most the time because you're so damn pretty,' Trixie finished.

'I don't… people _do_ actually like me, Trix! I do _not_ pounce… and even if I do, no one has complained… have they?'

Trixie laughed, 'No, Pats, I've heard no gossip against the pouncing, merely the being left and forgotten like a toy you grown bored with.'

Patsy sighed, frustrated, 'Trix, you know my life has been a mess since… well forever! Especially recently. I haven't been around to have a serious relationship with anyone.'

'Patsy you went to Oxford for three years and have been in London the entire time until your father grew ill! You can't use your traveling the last six months as an excuse for flitting about from girl to girl the last ten years!'

Patsy blustered, 'Well fine! I'm picky, but I don't treat people like toys that I never pick up again once I have my way with them! I'm just… I mean, what's the point in staying with someone if we're not compatible in _every way possible_ , hmm?' Patsy chided, 'Seems rather like a waste of everyone's time.'

'Patsy it's alright to admit you're having a bit of fun,' Trixie sighed.

'We all can't be lucky like you to have found true love at uni,' Patsy grumped, referring to her and Barbara's very long term and committed relationship.

'Alright, alright,' Trixie said to pacify her friend.

Patsy could hear her give a heavy sigh over the phone.

'So tell me your plans. How are you going to try and woo this Delia?'

Patsy scoffed, 'Throw myself at her, naturally.'

'And what else?' Trixie continued, seeming nonplussed at Patsy's silly response.

'Well I think I brought that dress that pushes my tits out.'

'Pats…'

'What? I look amazing in that dress, damn it. And it has pockets!' she insisted.

'No, really though, your tits are all well and good but you need to get her to like you as a person first.'

'Oh…' Patsy trailed off sadly.

'And _then_ you can let her objectify you,' Trixie finished.

'Oh!' Patsy said, feeling rather cheery about that.

'So, really though… what's the plan?' Trixie asked, 'Do you know anything about this woman at all?'

Patsy took a moment to sigh and look up at the ceiling in thought from her spot on the bed.

'Well… I was talking to her friend last night, um, a woman named Valerie who works here as the bartender. She's another queer woman who has known Delia for ages. Says Delia doesn't like my stories because she prefers love and romance to the vapid nonsense I throw out there.'

'Well why don't you try that then?' Trixie said simply.

'Try what?'

'Court her, silly!' Trixie exclaimed, 'you have the whole summer to get to know one another. You have the time. Take things slowly for once in your life, goodness knows you could use a partner to ground you.'

'I could?'

'Yes,' Trixie sighed, 'it's fantastic. Babs and I have been together six years already and it's always so wonderful to have someone to come home to. Someone who thinks about you when you're away and takes care of you when you're sick or upset. You can't have all that when you spend your life moving along from one woman to another.'

'Yes but what if that's how I want to live my life?' Patsy remarked, 'It's fun!'

'Is it?' Trixie challenged.

Patsy opened her mouth to reply and stopped herself. Was it? Certainly it was fun, dating and meeting new people and all that, but she was going to be 30 in a year and she was growing tired of the life she had been living. The drinking and parties all the time were growing trite and she increasingly wanted what Trixie had. Something long term. Something solid. Something permanent. Something she had never had in her entire life, to have someone there she could count on to be with her through thick and thin. Trixie and Barbara had certainly been there over the years to fill that void as friends, but deep down Patsy knew she wanted to be with someone whom she could love romantically. Someone who she could enjoy a book with snuggled up on the sofa on a rainy day. Someone she could take care of when they're feeling blue or sick. Someone she could be sweet to for no reason.

She had absolutely no idea if Delia was that person, but there was never any harm in attempting to find out. Who knows, at the very least Patsy could have a fun summer fling out of the whole experience.

'Oh,' Patsy replied, finally relenting, 'I suppose not,' she pouted slightly, 'how does one even _court_ , anyway? What do I do?'

'You've never actually pursued anyone in your life, have you,' Trixie asked.

'Yes I have. I pounce, remember?'

'That's not-!'

Patsy could hear Trixie pull the phone away from her mouth to give a choice swears under her breath.

'Maybe she doesn't want to be pounced on,' Trixie finished when she brought the phone back to her head.

'What do you mean?! Who doesn't like a good pouncing every once in awhile? That's absurd,' Patsy retorted indignantly.

'Patsy, really now,' Trixie pleaded, and Patsy could almost see her rolling her eyes, 'if she's like any other butch I've met then she's going to want to be the one who makes the first move. You're going to have to be much more subtle than you want to be. More demure. Not this aggressive pouncy business or whatever it is you do.'

'Again, not aggressive!' Patsy shouted, 'I'm proactive! Besides, you know how lesbians are. If we all just sat around waiting for the other to make the first move, no one would ever get _anywhere_!'

'Well you've only met her yesterday, Patsy. Just... spend some time with her. Talk to her. Let her get to know you so she's not so bloody terrified of you, for a start.'

'Then pounce?' Patsy asked hopefully.

'Try and read her, would you?' Trixie sighed, 'Body language and all that. You pounce at the wrong time and you're in for an awkward summer.'

Patsy sighed, 'Oh, I suppose you're right.'

'I know I'm right…,' Trixie trailed off for a moment and Patsy waited for her to continue, 'and I highly suggest the green summer dress with the white cardigan.'

'Ooh, I do love that cardigan.'

'Quite… and the dress doesn't show off your tits too much.'

'Just enough though, right?'

'Right. Good luck, darling!'

The two said their goodbyes and Patsy jumped out of bed, glad to have some semblance of a plan. She begrudgingly pushed Alison back out of the window and closed it behind her, drawing the curtains shut before she headed to her en suite to get ready.

Patsy walked along the path she had seen Delia take earlier, wearing the outfit Trixie had suggested. She came to a bit of a clearing between the trees, and saw on her left another little bungalow that was next to two rather large pens, one for pigs and the other for chickens with a goat or two lazing about. The animals were grazing or laying out and resting in the sun, and Patsy also noticed the dogs Delia had been walking with earlier were curled up on the front stoop of the bungalow. Patsy caught the sight of the other of Delia's brothers in the window of the small dwelling, simply wearing a vest and trousers and shaving his face, looking as if he was just waking up.

Delia did not appear to be here, so Patsy kept walking. She soon emerged from the trees and was happy to find the brunette sitting on the grass and casually smoking her pipe as she flipped through the pages of a book. What caught Patsy's attention, however, was the massive stone structure Delia happened to be leaning against.

There were two large stone slabs standing upright with another large slab laying against them at a right angle from the ground, acting as a roof over the other two.

'Goodness me, what on earth is that?' Patsy mused.

'Oh!' Delia looked up surprised and began to scramble to rise from her spot.

'No, no!' Patsy said, holding her hands out, 'It's alright Delia, you don't need to get up. I don't need anything, just… going for a stroll.'

Delia stopped her motions and relaxed a little, placing her book to the side while Patsy turned her gaze back to the structure.

'Do you know what this is?' she asked.

Delia looked over her shoulder and up at the stones, puffing on her pipe before responding.

'Megalithic era portal tomb,' she said simply.

Patsy blinked, 'It's a mega what now?' she asked as she began to slowly walk around the structure.

Delia rose from her spot and puffed on her pipe some more, looking back at Patsy as she circled the structure and looked it up and down curiously.

'It's an ancient burial sight, Miss Mount,' Delia elaborated.

'Really?' Patsy said with wonder, her eyes wide.

'Sure,' Delia said, waving her pipe at the structure, 'I imagine the neolithic farmers used it for the burial of important members of the community or as a gathering spot of sorts.'

'Neolithic?' Patsy paused, raising an eyebrow.

'That's right,' Delia nodded, squinting her eye slightly as she looked up in thought, 'Probably about six thousand years ago or so.'

'How… did it get here?' Patsy marveled, 'Surely they didn't haul it from some far away place like they did with Stonehenge?'

'Well, I can't wrap my head around how they actually got these stones to stand as they are,' Delia said as she scratched her head, 'but I do know this type of rock is the blue stone they mine down at the quarry. '

'Oh,' Patsy made a face as everything suddenly clicked in her head, 'This is blue stone. We're surrounded by it, aren't we,' she wiggled her finger in the air as Delia gave a cute smile back at her, 'Blue Stone Inn and all that. Explains why the lads were so happy about that song you sang last night.'

Delia winked, 'Good on you for catching on.'

'Nothing gets past me, Delia… usually,' she said with a smirk, turning her attention back to the structure.

She took a step back and just marveled at it.

'So you just… have an ancient… massive… megalithic stone structure,' Patsy's hands flailed slightly in front of her as she worked this out, 'what I'm assuming is an important piece of human history… just sitting here on your property?'

'Structures like this are all over the UK and Ireland, Miss Mount,' Delia shrugged and puffed on her pipe, and Patsy was completely flabbergasted at how indifferent Delia seemed to be about it, 'Though I do suppose someday we'll have someone come out and excavate it, but we figure if they did bury people here we ought to just leave 'em be.'

Patsy sighed, 'Fair enough.'

She looked out and saw that Delia had been facing a crystal blue lake when she approached, a small rowboat was tied to the shore and it bobbed slightly from the gentle waves. On the other side of the lake, Patsy could see the church over the hills with more buildings and cottages. Little white fluffy sheep dotted the green hills and a warm breeze tickled the skin on Patsy's arms. Her breath caught in her throat at the beauty of it all.

'This is such a beautiful place, Delia,' she smiled, turning back to the brunette, 'I can see why you came to this spot to read.'

'I do find it quite peaceful here, yes,' she replied shyly, shifting from one foot to another, 'Um… would you like to join me? I brought myself a spot of breakfast that I haven't touched yet. Be happy to share it with you.'

Patsy's heart fluttered frantically at the invitation and she smiled, 'Delia I would be delighted.'

The two sat down in the grass and Patsy fluffed her skirt out around her as Delia put down her pipe and reached into her satchel, pulling out a white handkerchief, which she unraveled to reveal a scone. She broke it in two and handed half of it to Patsy, the redhead noting with delight that it was still soft and warm from the oven.

'I have some jam if you like,' Delia said, reaching into her bag again, 'and some tea.'

'Yes to both, please,' Patsy smiled as she brought the scone to her nose and took a deep breath in, 'my this smells delicious,' she said.

'Da just made it fresh this morning,' Delia replied, 'the jam is home made, too, but it's from last summer.'

The two situated their scone with however much jam they wanted, and Delia pulled out a thermos of tea from her satchel.

'So I take it you're not a church goer, either?' Patsy asked as she nodded in the direction of the stone church across the lake. The bells were ringing and echoing throughout the hills again once more, noting the change in the hour. People were slowly starting to filter out, children running around and laughing.

'Not particularly,' Delia shrugged, looking in the direction patsy was looking, 'I prefer to see the beauty of god's work outside those four walls. Yourself?'

'I'm similar, I suppose,' Patsy sighed, looking out onto the gorgeous scenery, 'though, I don't need to believe in fairies to see the beauty of the garden, so to speak.'

'Ohh,' Delia tutted playfully, 'Don't ever let Sister Monica Joan ever catch you saying something like that. She'll not hear a nary word against the fairies.'

Patsy raised an eyebrow, 'Which one is she?'

'The oldest one. Half blind,' Delia pointed to her eye, 'wonderful woman and can quote Keats for days, though otherwise a bit… how should I say… not all there? Very kind woman though. My brothers loves her. They had her as a teacher when they were coming up through school.'

'Are they all teachers?' Patsy asked, 'The nuns?'

Delia nodded, 'That's right Miss Mount.'

'Ah,' Patsy said with a nod, now understanding why the three women seemed to be held in such high regard by the men in the pub. They were probably their teachers, if not teachers to their own children now.

'I had Sister Evangelina, the more bulldoggish one,' Delia shrugged indifferently.

'Great dart player!' Patsy remarked .

'She's a wild one, for sure,' Delia smiled, 'remember once she threatened to throw a girl out the window by her pigtails for her backtalk.'

'Goodness!'

'She didn't, but the imagery still plays in my mind to this day!' Delia said with a laugh, 'How horrible that would be!'

'I can only imagine!' Patsy grinned.

Delia smiled kindly as she moved to pour some tea from her thermos into a little cup.

'Delia, I saw one of your brothers on the way over here,' Patsy remarked casually, 'He looked as if he lived in that little bungalow by the pigs and chickens?'

'Oh, yes, they both do,' Delia explained as she handed Patsy her tea and moved to pour her own cup, 'Mam kicked them out of the house a year or so ago to make room for guests, you see. We all built that little place together out there as they tend to the livestock anyway. We figured it was a good spot so they can keep an eye on them.'

'They don't mind living in such close quarters with one another?' Patsy asked.

'Oh, they don't mind at all, the boys. They're twins. Always been together. They get rather depressed when they're apart for too long.'

'I see, and have you also been kicked out?' Patsy asked, blowing on her tea before she took a sip.

Delia gave a bit of a smile and Patsy was happy she seemed to be more relaxed around her, 'No, Miss Mount. I stay on the main house with my parents. Mam likes to keep me close by as I… well, she wants me near so she can look after me,' Delia remarked and sighed a little despondently.

Patsy's eyes darted to the scar on Delia's eyebrow but she looked away before Delia could notice.

'So are you settling in alright Miss Mount?' Delia asked conversationally, Patsy thinking she sounded as if she was rather eager to change the subject.

'I am, thank you,' she replied as she took a bite of her scone and had to control the inappropriate moan of pleasure she wanted to let out for tasting something so delicious, 'Slept like a baby after the day I had yesterday,' she said instead.

Delia winced slightly, 'Sorry, Miss Mount, I do still feel so terribly awful about your arrival.'

'Oh,' Patsy waived her off, 'I was talking more about being tired from traveling on the train than anything, and besides, I thought my arrival here was rather entertaining,' she smiled, and leaned forward slightly, 'It's not everyday a beautiful woman falls out of the ceiling and into my arms like that.'

Delia hiccuped into her tea and turned red.

Patsy thought her reaction was rather endearing but leaned back, remembering not to pounce. She decided it would be better to compliment Delia on something other than her appearance.

'And my gosh Delia, the music you played last night was just delightful,' Patsy gushed.

'Oh, Miss Mount, it's nothing special, really,' Delia insisted shyly, 'Lots of pubs have live music.'

'Yes but do they sound as good as you and your brothers?' Patsy watched as Delia shrugged shyly and continued, 'You have such a lovely voice, Delia, and you play so well. Have you and your brothers… sorry, what are their names?'

'Oh, um, Michael and Nicholas. We sometimes call them Micholas when they're together,' she said with a small smile.

'Cute,' Patsy remarked, 'have you three been playing together very long?'

'All our lives, I think, since we were old enough to pick 'em up,' Delia looked up in thought as she broke off a bit of her scone, 'The instruments have been passed down in our family. My gran thought it was appropriate I play the mandolin, see, since it's the smallest, and, well… so am I.'

'Well she certainly made a good choice there.'

'Do you play any instruments Miss Mount?' Delia asked, taking a bite of her scone.

Patsy opened her mouth to reply, but a familiar hiffing noise of one Alison the pony caught her attention, the pony seemingly having followed her and was now snuffling her hair and nuzzling the side of her head.

'For the love of…' Patsy looked to Delia, 'have you been sitting there this whole time watching her come up behind me and didn't say anything?'

Delia tucked her bottom lip into her mouth to hide her smile, looking incredibly guilty. Patsy didn't have it within her to hold one iota of anger or resentment at such a cute face.

Patsy shook her head as she batted Alison away from her by the nose.

'Well at the very least can you tell me why on earth this beast seems to be so infatuated with me?'

Delia finally let herself smile, 'Miss Mount, if I had to guess, she probably thinks your hair looks like a giant apple.'

'An apple?' Patsy asked, 'Oh well that's just splendid, my hair looking like one giant piece of fruit. That was completely the look I was going for today,' she gripped, but her mood lifted when she noticed Delia smiling endearingly at her.

She gently pushed the snuffling pony away from her again, 'Shoo! Sit! Go lay down!' she commanded as if it were a dog, subtly happy that Delia was giggling at her antics.

'I don't think that'll work on her, Miss Mount,' Delia said, rising to her feet and walking to Alison.

She placed her hand on the pony's neck and guided her away, making a clicking noise with her mouth. Delia led her to an apple tree and picked up an apple that had fallen to the ground, bringing it to Alison's mouth and holding it there until the pony ate. Delia let her be once Alison seemed to realize there were apples all over the place, and the Welsh woman made her way back to Patsy and say beside her, picking up her tea.

'Sorry about that,' she said, 'she's an old girl and probably can't see very well.'

Delia took a sip of her tea before looking back to Patsy.

'Sorry, what were we talking about?'

Patsy blinked, needing a moment to remember where their conversation had left off.

'Ah, instruments,' Patsy shrugged, tapping her finger to her chin in thought, 'I was made to take piano lessons and played the violin a little in school. Found it quite dull, actually. Wasn't allowed to listen to or play rock and roll at school, so naturally, I now have a rather large collection of records back at my flat in London,' she smiled, 'I assure you, Delia, between the two of us you are the one with all the musical talent and I am so very blessed and pleased you and your brothers choose to play together and share that talent with the rest of us.'

'Oh, Miss Mount,' Delia gave a kind smile, 'I think everyone can play if they love it enough. It sounds like you do. Maybe just haven't found the right instrument?'

'Delia, I assure you I'm much better at enjoying music when I'm not the one having to create it,' Patsy said reassuringly.

Delia smiled, 'You really like music quite a bit then?'

'Oh, absolutely. I listen to just about everything I can get my hands on. And I did so enjoy your performance last night, you know. If you and your brothers ever made a record I would buy ten copies,' she grinned.

Delia laughed shyly, her cheeks turning red, 'Miss Mount you wouldn't have to do a thing like that.'

'Of course I would! Would play them so often the needle would scrape the record bare. I'd need so many copies just to always have a backup on hand, wouldn't I?'

Patsy's heart fluttered as she watched Delia turn more red, her dimples appearing as she shyly held her hand in her face, peering back at Patsy through two fingers. Patsy decided right then that Delia was possibly the cutest woman she had ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on.

'Besides, us artists need to support each other!' Patsy finished, pounding a firm fist into the palm of her other hand.

Delia's smile widened and she sat up straight in her seat looking rather excited.

'Oh, speaking of which,' she reached behind her and proudly displayed the faded paperback, 'I've just been reading one of your books-,'

Patsy gasped in horror as she saw the title of a book that she knew to be particularly raunchy and terrible as it was one of her earlier works.

Without thinking, Patsy snatched the book out of Delia's hand and flung it so hard away from them she felt the joint in her wrist snap. It flew through the air like a frisbee for several agonizing seconds before landing somewhere out in the lake with a prominent _plunk,_ and promptly sank beneath the surface.

The two women remained completely still and silent for several moments, Patsy clearing her throat awkwardly as a few choice words Trixie used to describe her came to mind… what were they? _Impulsive_? _Aggressive_? This, Patsy felt with a sinking realization, was probably what she meant.

Patsy's mind went back to the conversation she had with Valerie the night before about Delia being slighted by the likes of the very women Patsy wrote about in her books. She didn't want Delia to associate her with one of those women, even if she had been one. She didn't want to be like that now, not anymore.

Patsy looked over to Delia, who remained wide eyed and frozen in place, too terrified to make a move.

Patsy fluffed out her skirt over her knees again to have something to do with her hands and gave a tight smile.

'It's a rubbish book anyway,' she said quietly, 'They all are. No need to waste your time with all that now.'

'...That was Valerie's copy,' Delia quietly eked out, still staring out onto the lake.

'I'll send her a brand new one,' Patsy said, her tone light and airy and desperate to move on, 'with an autograph.'

Delia finally blinked back to her senses and turned to look at Patsy, giving a rather nervous smile.

Oh good going Patsy, she thought, you're scaring her.

'I don't write that series anymore, Delia,' Patsy said calmly, 'I'm going to start something new. Something completely different… soon as I think up something,' she smiled hopefully, 'I'm sure lightning will strike! And when it does you'll be the first to read it, alright?'

'Oh, um, sure Miss Mount I would like that very much.'

'Splendid,' Patsy breathed a sigh of relief as Delia seemed to relax a little.

Her good mood was dampered slightly when a familiar hiffing noise sounded in her ear and the hot breath of one pony smelling her hair once more tickled her ear and neck.

'Oh, for Pete's sake,' she said as she pushed the pony away once more, 'Delia I'm beginning to think I ought to go back to being a blonde.'

Delia merely laughed, standing and collecting her thermos and placing it back on her satchel.

She extended her hand to help Patsy rise, and lifted the redhead to her feet easily.

'What do you think, Delia,' Patsy prodded, fluffing her hair slightly, 'should I go blonde or do you prefer the red?'

'My preference should be of no concern, Miss Mount,' she smiled kindly, 'I think what's important is that you wear your hair however makes you happiest.'

Patsy blinked, rather appreciating her answer. She watched silently as Delia walked past her towards the apple tree and she bent down, collecting several apples into her satchel.

'Is that what you do?' Patsy asked, thinking she had some idea of the answer.

Alison bunted her head against Patsy's arm and she begrudgingly pet the creature as she waited for an answer.

'It's complicated,' Delia said quietly, rising to her feet and giving a tight smile, 'the apples here ought to keep Alison busy while she's grazing by your room. You should keep them nearby and toss them so she has something to chase after and won't bother you.'

Patsy was flummoxed slightly at the rather sudden change of subject, looking down at the apples in Delia's hand and satchel. She noted that this was the second time during their conversation that she changed the subject, steering the conversation away from herself. Why didn't she want to open up to her?

Maybe she's just shy?

Or guarded.

Patsy pushed those thoughts aside and smiled back at Delia

'I think that's a very clever idea, Delia. Let me help,' she said, and removed her cardigan and bent down to collect some apples herself, but a hand on her arm stopped her.

'Oh, Miss Mount, it's alright,' Delia said, almost pleadingly, 'I'm able to hold plenty of apples in my bag. No need to go and ruin your lovely cashmere now.'

'Oh, Delia,' Patsy shrugged with a smile, 'I don't mind at all. It's just a cardigan.'

'Yes, but it's a nice cardigan…' Delia trailed off quietly.

Patsy stopped herself from collecting any apples as she realized she was about to go ahead and make a mess of this nice garment in front of a woman who was standing before her in tattered dungarees, patched up all over from being worn and worked in for several years, probably.

'You're right,' Patsy smiled back up at Delia before she rose again to her feet, 'I think you've collected enough to keep Alison busy for a bit. Perhaps I'll come back tomorrow and collect some myself with a basket.'

Patsy placed her cardigan around her shoulders, and the two women began walking side by side down the path towards the Inn.

Delia smiled kindly, moving to pack her pipe once more with fresh loose tobacco, 'I believe I have a basket you can borrow if you like.'

'That's very kind of you, thank you,' Patsy said softly.

The two continued on down the path, Delia puffing away on her pipe while Patsy chatted happily until they reached the main house.

Patsy resolved that she needed to get started on her work and Delia mentioned there were a few things around the house to take care of that day. They parted amicably and spent the rest of their day working on their tasks, Patsy finally finding it within her to settle in and at least try to sort through her fathers papers. The best way she could figure to put them in order without them being ruined was to pin them to the wall in the order she believed them to be in. She fed apples to Alison through her bedroom window throughout the day while she did this, and she was about halfway through his memoirs before hunger overcame her and she left her room again to enjoy some supper in the dining room for the first time since she arrived.

Although, while pleasant, she was the only person in there save for a married couple who was passing through. She was halfway through her meal when she decided she had enough of their bickering, the man looking to be the most henpecked husband she had ever seen, and she promptly picked up her supper and moved to the pub where she could at the very least smoke.

She was delighted that Valerie was there, and she sat at the bar and ate while she chatted idly with the Londoner, discussing life back in the city that she missed and quite enjoying the rave reviews she was receiving for her Spitalfields Spitfire books, as much as she didn't want to think about that bloody series, she was glad it had made someone out there happy.

When she finished her supper and made Valerie happy by ordering a few rather complicated cocktails for her to put together, Patsy went back to her room. She was rather surprised to find a new appliance resting on the chest at the foot of the bed.

It was a small record player with speakers attached, a small stack of 45's sat nearby.

Patsy softly closed the door behind her and moved to sit in front of the player, taking one record off the stack, and then another, reading over the labels.

It was folk music. Classical. Rock and Roll. Blues.

It seemed Delia had a rather eclectic collection, albeit small.

After the incident earlier with her cardigan, Patsy wondered if this small collection of things was part, if not all, of what Delia had to herself. Her possessions. If they were, surely she must be putting a lot of faith in Patsy to treat them well, to take care of them.

Regardless, Patsy was quite touched at the gesture, missing her records herself. Not that she didn't enjoy the quiet, but she found life to be so much more pleasant with music in it.

It seemed Delia shared the same sentiment, and the thought made Patsy smile and think of her.

Patsy took a record out of its sheet and placed it on the player, laying the needle down and closed her eyes as a tune by Bob Dylan filled the room. As satisfying and catchy as it was, she thought to herself that she would always much rather prefer to hear the voice of the sweet Welsh woman she couldn't seem to stop thinking about.


	5. Chapter 5

The day after Delia had left her record player for Patsy to enjoy, the redhead decided to try and listen to the music while writing, though she wasn't very much in the mood for the latter as the weather was so warm and sunny that day, so she opted to listen to the records through the open window while she sat on the little porch out front of her bungalow.

That's how Patsy wanted Delia to find her that midday, the redhead looking pristine in her hair and makeup and summer dress sitting with as perfect posture as she could in her rocking chair, smoking a cigarette with her legs crossed and wearing the sunglasses Trixie said made her look like a redheaded Jackie Kennedy. It took a lot of work for her to look so casual, but her efforts were food paid off. From her seat on the little porch, Patsy could see Delia exit the main house and spot her sitting there. She was elated when she saw Delia smile and start to walk in her direction.

Patsy worked to contain her nerves and tried not to let on how excited she was to see Delia growing near as she made her way through the garden towards her.

'Morning Miss Mount,' Delia said as she approached, shifting her bag around her shoulder. She puffed on her pipe while her other hand found its way into her pocket, 'The records are to your liking, I hope?''

'Delia,' Patsy sighed wistfully, 'it is simply divine,' she said, not moving an inch. She was working very hard to look this elegant and nonchalant while smoking her cigarette, 'lt pains me to think that I almost went a whole 24 hours without hearing any music! I think I may just sit out here all day and play your records.'

Delia smiled shyly as she puffed on her pipe, 'Pleased to hear Miss Mount. I'm glad you like them.'

'It's absolutely wonderful, Delia. Thank you.'

Delia nodded, Patsy thinking she looked quite endearing as she shyly rocked from one foot to another.

'So, um, how are you getting on with your writing?' Delia asked.

'Oh, Delia,' Patsy said, 'when it comes to writing it's not a matter of how I'm getting on, it's that I'm getting on at all. But quite frankly it's going about as usual.'

'And how's that?'

'Terrible!' she exclaimed, Delia raising her eyebrows in response, 'Simply terrible, Delia, never become a writer!'

'Why's that?'

'Because, my dear girl, to be a writer is to let it consume you. When I'm not physically writing I'm _thinking_ about writing. I could be doing anything else but really I'm _always_ writing.'

Patsy took a drag of her cigarette as Delia looked at her curiously.

'Always?'

'Always! Doing my hair? No. Writing. Gardening? Writing. Shopping? Writing. Having a drink with the girls? I'm never really there with them, I'm writing!'

'Are you writing right now?' Delia asked.

 _'Especially_ right now Delia,' Patsy said as she peered over her sunglasses to look at the girl, 'Sitting here staring off into space is where I get my best ideas you know.'

Patsy watched as Delia smiled, the woman striking a match to relight the tobacco in her pipe.

'Sounds a lot like what I do when I write a song,' she remarked after a few puffs.

'I'm sure the process is very similar,' Patsy finished as she took a drag of her cigarette.

'Well I was going to invite you to come along on a walk with me and have a spot of lunch,' Delia said as she puffed on her pipe, 'but I'd hate to interrupt your writing process.'

Patsy jumped up immediately with a skip I her step, 'Did you also know I'm fabulous at multitasking?'

'Are you sure you aren't confusing that with procrastination?' Delia teased as the two began to talk towards the path that led to the lake.

Patsy made a face that feigned offense as she pulled on one of Delia's braces straps and snapped it, Delia giggling in response.

The two women walked to the spot by the lake they had occupied the day before, and before either of them realized, a few hours had passed with them talking and carrying on before Mrs. Busby's cry for Delia to attend some matter or other _right this instant_ carried through the trees from the main house. The two women walked back and went about their day.

The following day, Patsy dressed up and Delia appeared again to invite Patsy for a walk with some lunch. Same as the day after that. A whole week went by where the two had fallen into this type of schedule. Every day Delia would come around and collect Patsy, who would be waiting for her and, weather permitting, they would go for a stroll and chat, sitting in the same spot and enjoying the likes of tea and cucumber sandwiches and fresh baked biscuits.

One afternoon Delia was feeling a little blue, so Patsy picked up some apples from under the tree and began to juggle, claiming to have picked up this useless skill when she had little else to occupy her time during her six week boat trip back from Hong Kong. Patsy attempted to teach Delia how to juggle to get her mind off of whatever was troubling her, but soon abandoned the idea when Delia took one too many apples to the head. Instead, they sat in the grass and Patsy made Delia laugh by performing magic tricks, pretending to eat a flower and then pulling it out from behind Delia's ear.

Sometimes Valerie would join them and chat about her life back in Poplar, how she wanted to travel. She would sometimes bring up how much she loved Patsy's books but naturally the redhead would quickly change the subject to avoid talking about it in front of Delia.

When it was chilly or raining, they took their lunch in the empty pub. Delia would run to her room and grab her mandolin and she would delight Patsy in singing a tune or two while Patsy playfully danced with Valerie, Michael and Nicholas job ning in sometimes, laughing and carrying on with a huge smile on her face, even though she was a little sad it wasn't Delia she was dancing with. Her mood would be lifted when Delia offered to teach Patsy a few chords on her mandolin, and Patsy focused hard to learn how to play a little tune, the redheads heart thumping wonderfully in her chest whenever Delia would reach over and touch her, placing her fingers over the strings just right.

More time passed. March turned to April. Flowers were in full bloom now, and all the animals around the inn, it seemed, were giving birth to their next of kin. Patsy was no longer woken every morning by the church bells nearby, but the sounds of chicks peeping, piglets oinking, and little lambs bleating, everyone hungry for their mothers to feed them well before sunrise.

While she would begrudgingly wake from all animal noises, she came to find that it was actually quite pleasant to sit on her rocking chair in front of her bungalow before the sun rose with a cup of hot tea, looking out onto the gardens. Sometimes she would catch the sight of a deer and her fawn delicately walking through the cabbage patch through the mist of the new day. It was quite a beautiful sight up until one of the dogs would dart out of nowhere barking like mad and chased them off. Patsy would be annoyed with the pup before she realized it was just doing its job protecting their food, the thing looking quite satisfied with itself as it strutted back into it's shed.

Before she went back into her own dwelling, a light flickering through a window of the second story of the main house caught her attention. Patsy wasn't quite sure as she hadn't ever been up there, but she imagined it to be Delias room. The thought of Delia being awake and getting ready for her day comforted Patsy. She would be able to see Delia eventually and the thought made her happy.

It was Saturday and Patsy figured she could spend a little bit of time working on her project at the very least since she had nothing else to do for now.

She liked having the window open as the breeze and sound of nature helped her focus.

Patsy had fallen into the habit of reading over her father's papers and marking her notes with one hand, and holding an apple out for Alison with the other as the pony was sure to poke her head through. It had gotten to the point where Patsy didn't even realize she was doing it until she reached into her basket and felt no more apples. Only then would she look up from her work and realize the time.

That day it was nearly lunchtime and she was still sitting in her dressing gown, apparently having skipped breakfast and only now realizing it as her stomach roared and stabbed at her painfully with hunger.

She looked at her wristwatch and realized that it was nearly noon and Delia hadn't come by to collect her for lunch. Patsy felt a little hurt by it but reckoned that the woman was probably just busy or lost track of time like she had.

'No matter,' Patsy said as she moved to get dressed for the day. She was too hungry to really bemoan the absence of Delia, so she pulled her hair back and threw on a summer dress, not bothering with makeup as she just couldn't be bothered in the moment.

Patsy grabbed her basket and decided to go to the lake and collect more apples for Alison, and as she closed her door, she spotted a familiar figure emerging from the trees, puffing away at her pipe with her hand in her pocket. Patsy knew Delia to work some rather first jobs,and but she noticed the woman was covered in a lot more dirt than usual.

'Goodness Delia,' Patsy exclaimed, getting her attention, 'what on earth did you get into? You look like you fell in the pigpen.'

'Oh, hello Miss Mount,' Delia said with a grin, her teeth looking extra white against the dirt covering her face, 'I daresay I quite literally fell down a rabbit hole.'

Delia stopped by the entrance to the house and tapped her pipe against the wall to knock out the old tobacco as Patsy approached.

'Whatever for?' she asked.

'Well, I-,' Delia cut herself off as she looked over at Patsy, taking in her appearance.

Patsy noticed this and gasped, bringing a hand to hide her face, 'Oh, gosh, I didn't put on anything this morning. Didn't think I would run into anyone, honestly. I probably look horrid.'

Delia merely laughed, 'Given my current state of dress Miss Mount, I am in no position to judge someone for their appearance, especially not someone as elegant as you.'

Patsy slowly brought her hand away from her face, noting the warm look Delia was giving her.

'In fact I was just going to comment how much more relaxed you looked.'

'Really?' Patsy said as she removed her hand completely.

'Of course Miss Mount, and… well, I apologise for staring, but I didn't know you had freckles.'

Patsy could feel herself blush, but waived her off, 'Comes with being so fair skinned I suppose. All this time in the sunshine has really made them pop.'

'Well I find them quite charming on you, very pretty,' Delia said, 'you shouldn't feel you need to cover them up. I…,' Delia stopped herself and shook her head slightly, 'forgive me, Miss Mount. How you choose to present yourself is none of my business.'

'Oh, that's alright,' Patsy remarked with a smile, feeling like she was glowing.

Delia thought she looked pretty! Hallelujah!

'You know Delia, I take great joy in knowing that this small change made it so that you couldn't help yourself and just had to tell me how pretty I looked.'

Patsy grinned at Delia's obvious state of bashfulness, feeling rather giddy that she was finally able to entice some sort of compliment out of her.

'I'm not of the habit of commenting on another person's appearance Miss mount,' Delia said.

'Why not!'

'It's not polite,' Delia insisted kindly.

'Only when it's unwarranted,' Patsy replied, pointing a finger into the air, 'and as far as you and I are concerned, Delia, your comments on my appearance are very much warranted.'

Delia gave a defeated sigh as Patsy clasped her hands in front of her and twirled her skirt about her knees.

'I just want you to tell me I'm pretty,' she said, knowing she was grinning like a fool but it was making Delia blush through the dirt that was covering her face.

Delia finally relented, 'You look very pretty today, Miss Mount.'

'Oh don't sound so miserable, Delia,' Patsy teased, through feeling rather happy and grinning at Delias words, 'You should know by now I'm vain and want lots of attention.'

'Oh? I hadn't noticed,' Delia said with a grin, and Patsy gasped and was about to reach over and pinch her for being so cheeky, when she heard a strange sound coming from Delia's body somewhere. She looked to the woman's breast pocket in her dungarees and gasped in surprise when she saw the head of a fuzzy black, blue eyed kitten pop out.

'Gracious!'

'Isn't she just?' Delia said as she affectionately scratched the kitten between the eyes, 'Forgot I was even carrying her around, the little thing was so quiet. Must have been so cold back on that hole,' Delia remarked as she tenderly stroked the thing behind the ears, 'Was down by the chicken coop earlier repairing the fence when I heard this little one making a racket. Seemed to have wondered into that rabbit hole and couldn't find her way out.'

'So you went in and got her?' Patsy asked, willing herself to speak coherently as she was so overcome by the image of Delia standing there with a kitten in her pocket. The woman looked so adorable Patsy could barely stand it.

'That's right, Miss Mount. Was just about to take her in and feed her,' Delia said as she pulled the kitten out and gently held her in front of her, 'I've no idea where the mother is, but she looks big enough to be on her own now anyway,' Delia looked over to Patsy with a smile, 'Would you like to hold her?'

Patsy could only smile and nod at such an offer.

Apple basket left and forgotten on the back porch, the two women and kitten entered the house and Patsy followed Delia through the empty house to the kitchens.

While Patsy noted with high regard the state in which Mrs. Busby kept the common areas of the house, such as the dining room and lounge, the kitchens, it seemed, were Mr. Busby's domain.

The kitchen displayed the workspace of someone who held their craft near and dear to their heart, even if it was a bit disorganized and messy to Patsy's eyes. Open shelves held an assortment of all sorts of plates and bowls, all different shapes and sizes and colors, looking as if they had been collected from thrift shops and garden sales over the years. Wooden countertops lightly dusted with flour from preparing that mornings bread sat about waist high. Against the wall was a doorless cupboard for dry goods and teas, large bags of things sitting on the shelves and Patsy imagined that's where the bulk of Fred's deliveries must go. Baskets hung from hooks holding things like eggs and salami, tomatoes, onions, and cucumbers. Several things hung from the ceiling dangerously low to where Patsy needed to duck as she stepped in further into the room, things like pots and pans, linked sausages, and bundles of herbs tied together to dry out. There was a decent sized stove and next to it a large ice box with a stainless steel handle.

Patsy's attention turned to Delia as she turned on the tap in the bucket sink and soaped up her hands and forearms, removing a good bit of dirt but completely ignoring her face. Patsy needed to blink and focus on holding the wiggly kitten in her hands so Delia wouldn't notice her staring.

'Alright, let's see,' Delia mused to herself as she toweled off, 'we might have a bit of cream left over from this morning,' she threw the flannel over her shoulder and looked through the ice box, pulling out a small glass bottle with a few ounces of cream still left.

She placed the cream by the stove as she moved to fill a pot with water to heat it up. She smiled back up at Patsy as she placed the bottle into the pot.

'Warming up a bottle just like for a baby,' she mused.

'She can certainly cry like one,' Patsy said as she handed over the noisy kitten to Delia.

Patsy couldn't help the smile on her face as she watched Delia interact with the tiny creature.

'Aw, what's the matter, little bean,' Delia cooed affectionately, 'are you hungry?'

The kitten mewled as Delia scratched behind it's ears, and Patsy's heart melted at the sight.

'You really like looking after animals, don't you?'

Delia smiled shyly, not able to meet Patsy's eye, 'I feel as though taking care of these little ones is as close as I'll ever get to being a mum.'

Patsy felt a twinge of sadness as Delia's face seemed to soften at the comment, but she pushed through a smile.

'Well,' Patsy started, taking a deep breath and hastily yanking the flannel from off Delia's shoulder, 'I feel as though cleaning up after you is as close as I'll get to being a wife,' she grinned, firmly grabbing Delia's chin and holding her steady as she wiped the dirt off her face.

'H-hey,' Delia said through her laughter, playfully batting at Patsy as she attempted to relinquish her grip on her.

'Really now,' Patsy playfully chided, attempting to lighten the mood, 'what kind of rabbits have a hole big enough for you to just dive right in to, hmm?' she said as she continued scrubbing, 'gracious you're a mess!'

'The kind that'll destroy our garden, is like,' Delia said with a blush as Patsy finally let go, 'think I'll need to have Bob go in and ferret them out.'

'Bob?'

'The terrier. The little brown one. It's what he's bred to do,' Delia elaborated.

Delia noticed the water was bubbling in the pot so she swirled the cream in its bottle to warm it up a bit.

'Hand me a bowl, please?' she asked, and Patsy reached up to grab one for her.

She placed the bowl down on the counter and Delia poured a bit of the cream into it, a light blush on her cheeks. Patsy would have thought it was from embarrassment from having her face scrubbed so thoroughly if it weren't for the hint of a smile playing on her lips.

Delia placed the kitten down on the counter, taking her pinkie and dipping it into the bowl and bringing it to the kittens mouth, letting it sniff and lick her finger before she gently guided it to the bowl. It only took a moment for the kitten to start drinking the warm cream heartily.

'Missed a spot,' Patsy said to herself, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth as she wiped a rather large bit of dirt from behind Delia's ear.

She hadn't really missed anything, only wanting an excuse to touch Delia again.

The brunette hunched her shoulders and laughed, playfully pulling away from Patsy once more.

'You really can't stand to see me dirty, can you?' Delia laughed.

'I can't help it, Delia, you're just too pretty to be covered up in all that dirt!'

Delia was blushing profusely now, and Patsy merely giggled, loving the reaction she could get out of Delia from her shameless flirting.

'Doesn't surprise me one bit Miss Mount,' Delia said, 'you're always looking so clean and tidy. Makes me wonder if you've ever broken a sweat at all.'

Patsy gasped dramatically, faking indignation, 'Delia, how dare you. What,' she said as she placed her hands on her hips raising an eyebrow at Delia's smirk, 'you don't think I know how to do things?' she wiggled her head a bit, 'you don't think I can get my hands dirty, hmm? Do something useful?'

Delia bit her lip to suppress a laugh and Patsy tutted.

'I'll show you!' Patsy exclaimed, feeling her competitive streak come to life, 'In fact, I'll feed you, how about that? Lunch is on me today, Delia!'

'Oh, Miss Mount, I was only kidding, you really don't-,' Delia began to plead before she was cut off.

'No no! You asked for it Delia!' Patsy insisted, turning on her heel.

She looked around the small kitchen and stated to brainstorm things she could whip together that would impress Delia. She spotted flour and eggs and thought something simple would suffice so long as she was able to make it from scratch.

Patsy continued to playfully grumble as she filled a pot with water and flicked on a burner on the stovetop, placing the pot over the heat to boil.

'Think I can't get my hands dirty, hmm? I'll show you,' she mumbled as she piled a bit of flour and salt onto the countertop and made a deep well. She looked back at Delia while cracking several eggs with one hand into the well. She looked back at Delia smartly with one eyebrow raised as she worked her hands into the picture, creating a soft dough.

She mocked aner as she kneaded the dough, giving it a firm punch or two while she grumbled that she could very well make some pasta damn it. Delia covered her mouth to suppress giggles as Patsy flattened the dough with a rolling pin.

Patsy folded the dough several times on itself and then used a knife to cut thin strips, about the width of her pinkie finger.

She sprinkled more flour and fluffed the pasta, the strands unfurling and making a heap on the countertop.

Patsy turned around and gave a triumphant clap, the flour on her hands rising into the air in a thick white puff as she situated her hands on her hips, standing proud.

'Delia you're about to have the most delicious lunch you've ever had, by George.'

'Um… Miss Mount,'

'Still think I'm incapable of breaking a sweat, hmm?'

'No, but-,'

'Think I'd shy away from getting my hands dirty?'

'Miss Mount….'

Patsy sighed, 'Yes, Delia, what is it?'

'Your Pasta is on fire.'

Patsy narrowed her eyes at Delia, and swiftly turned on her heel where she found the pasta she had just made up in flames from the burner on the stove.

'Ah!'

Patsy looked around frantically to find anything to put out the fire with. She grasped the pot of boiling water but the handles were hot, and she swore and immediately let go, the water spilling everywhere as the pot clamored to the floor noisily.

More clamoring ensued as Patsy flailed around awkwardly, reaching up above her head, her hands knocking into just about every pot and pan hanging from the ceiling until she finally found a decently sized lid and grabbed it. Without any hesitation, she slammed the lid over the fire and held it there, leaning over to press her whole weight onto the lid, hoping to snuff out the flame.

The pots and pans above them still gently swayed above their heads, filling the kitchen with a soothing chime that did nothing to alleviate the stress in the room at the moment.

Patsy pursed her lips and blew a strand of hair out of her eye as she reached over and turned the burner off. She looked back at Delia, the woman had jumped up on the counter to avoid any boiling water from touching. She was clutching the black kitten to her chest, staring back at Patsy with wide eyes, eyebrows raised, looking much too nervous to move an inch.

Patsy slowly lifted the lid and was relieved to see that had put out the flame, but was a little distraught to see that her pasta was ruined.

'Are you alright, Miss Mount?' Delia asked quietly.

Patsy stood up straight and put on a smile, taking a deep breath as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

'Sandwiches…,' Patsy said, a bit out of breath, 'I can do sandwiches.'

Patsy grabbed a tomato from one of the baskets hanging from the ceiling, and picked up the knife she had been using to cut the pasta with.

'Delia do be a dear and grab some br-'

The knife came down and out in the fields, birds flew off in packs from their perches in nearby trees, startled by the shrill cry of an Englishwoman who had just sliced through her thumb.

'Just keep it elevated like this, Miss Mount,' Delia said softly from beside Patsy.

The two women stood side by side, Delia holding Patsy's thumb over the sink wrapped in a flannel as she kept it elevated over her head. Patsy was bent over, her head in the crook of her elbow resting on the countertop, feeling a mix of shame and embarrassment for failing at such a simple task.

'I'm so thankful you're a nurse Delia,' she mumbled.

'Oh,' Delia sighed, 'I'm not a nurse anymore, Miss Mount. That time's long past.'

'But you still have the knowledge, don't you?' Patsy said, looking up at Delia, 'You just jumped right into action knew what to do, didn't you? You stayed completely calm. Cool as a cucumber while I stood here screaming like a banshee.'

Patsy sighed again as she dramatically dropped her head back into her elbow with a _thunk_.

'I wouldn't say you were screaming like a banshee. Swearing like a sailor, more like,' Delia said in an attempt to lighten Patsy's mood.

The redhead merely grumbled.

'I don't know anything, Delia. I'm completely useless,' she moaned miserably.

'Don't say that Miss Mount. You're not useless.'

'Well I haven't got any skills, have I?' Patsy cried, 'Never learned a trade or anything. It's a wonder I've managed to keep myself alive all this time. How am I supposed to look after someone else someday? Can't even make a bloody sandwich.'

There was a moment of silence as Patsy sighed despondently into her elbow, barely noticing how still Delia seemed.

'Is this why you don't think you'll ever be a wife?' Delia asked quietly, 'You don't think you're of any use in a household?'

'Well, the cleaning bit I've got down pat I think,' Patsy admitted with a sigh, 'but as you saw, I'm not good for much else, Delia. Being around you and your family is making me realize I'm of no use!' she exclaimed, 'I can't cook, I don't sew or make clothing, I know nothing about living on a farm or taking care of animals. I don't make or repair anything! Jesus, Delia, I don't think I've ever even held a hammer my life!'

Patsy was on the verge of tears, almost hyperventilating. Was this what a mid life crisis felt like? What had she been doing with her life all this time? Fifteen years of schooling and grooming to look pretty and discuss politics and philosophy and literature intelligently, to what, attract a husband? She certainly didn't want of those! And what good was all that education worth out here where she was surrounded by people who worked with their hands, used their skills to produce something or their strength to move mountains or compassion to heal people.

'Oh, Delia,' Patsy said, 'I so wish I had learned a craft in which I produced something useful. Something practical.'

'Miss Mount, you have a craft. One that is just as important to the world as shoemakers and welders,' Delia said, her tone soft and comforting, 'the world needs artists. It needs poets and writers like yourself to give us our humanity, and to make the world fun. To make life worth living.'

'Still…' Patsy groaned, thinking of only the rubbish she had managed to produce.

'Miss Mount,' Delia said softly, placing a comforting hand on Patsy's arm, 'all these things you mentioned are skills that can be learned if you apply yourself and put in the effort, like all things. If you truly want to learn how to do something, you can, and I'm certain anyone around here would take the time to teach you if you asked.'

Delia gently peeled away the flannel to look at Patsy's cut.

'Besides, cooking and cleaning don't make anyone a good wife,' she said with a reassuring smile, 'my Mam and Da, for example. Da cooks and helps with the livestock and Mam is the one who runs a business. If they cared what other people thought and switched roles, then we'd be bankrupt and out on the streets, half starved to death as Mam can barely boil an egg!'

Patsy gave a half-hearted smile as Delia moved to look through a drawer, shuffling through the odd something or other before she pulled out a plaster.

'What matters is just… the love you bring into a marriage,' she continued as she opened the plaster and wrapped it around Patsy's thumb, 'and together you and your spouse will figure out how to make it work, play to your strengths. How to provide for one another and your children.'

Patsy rose to her full height as she looked down at her hand in Delia's, the simple task of her wrapping her cut in a plaster so delicately and gently made Patsy feel particularly special and cared for.

'Do you feel better, Miss Mount?' Delia's soft voice cut through Patsy's thoughts.

Patsy didn't know what came over her. Her heart felt like it was swelling with affection for the brunette and she couldn't help herself. What she did next came to her so effortlessly and naturally that she didn't think to hesitate.

'Yes, I feel much better Delia,' she said, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek, 'thank you.'

The kiss was very chaste by Patsy's standards, only lingering for a moment and it was over in just a second, but as Patsy pulled away she saw a look of utmost terror on Delia's face, her shoulders hunched slightly and she was frozen in place, almost as if she had no idea what to do.

Patsy's heart sank.

Perhaps Delia wasn't ready for a kiss. Or rather, maybe she didn't like Patsy like that at all.

These last few weeks Patsy had been very aware of her own behavior, having heeded the advice of her friend Trixie to not pounce. She made the effort to get to know Delia first and let Delia get to know her, and to read Delia's body language, especially. Patsy wondered if in this moment she had been misreading the Welsh woman this whole time, what she thought was just her being shy was really her trying to keep her distance, unable to tell Patsy that she wasn't interested. That she didn't like her in the way Patsy liked her.

The thought made Patsy feel sick to her stomach all of a sudden.

Patsy opened her mouth to apologize, anything to fix this situation, this awkward moment, but before she could get a word out, there was a loud clamoring that made the both of them jump.

'What the blazes happened in here?'

The two women quickly turned to see Mr. Busby standing at the entrance to the kitchen as he stumbled over the pot that had fallen to the floor earlier, his mustache bristling slightly as he looked about the chaotic scene before him in his kitchen.

'Ah, sorry Da,' Delia said, and at once the two women took a rather large step away from one another, 'had a bit of an accident…'

 _'Cariad_ ,' Mr. Busby chided warningly, 'you better not let your Mam catch you in here in your dirty clo-' he cut himself off, looking above his head wide eyes and mouth agape as he spotted the black kitten crawling up a line of garlic hanging from the ceiling, 'What the- oh _Delia_ ,' he scolded as Delia scrambled to reach for the kitten, 'you know better than to bring animals in the house. Your Mam will lose her bloody temper if she sees this…'

'Sorry, Da, I just found her and she was hungry…'

'None of that now,' he said sternly, 'you two get on out of here so I can start preparing supper,' he stepped out of the way of the door and waved them off, 'Go on now.'

In an attempt to help and alleviate any frustration or anger, Patsy reached down and picked up the large pot that had called to the floor and placed it back on the stove.

'So sorry for the mess Mr. Busby…'

'That's all very well and good, Miss Mount, but I'll take care of it. You've no business being in the kitchen anyway, being a guest and all. Off with ya,' he nodded towards the door and Patsy left, thinking it best to go. She hurried out of there quickly behind Delia.

The two women rushed out of the house and we're in the back garden once more. Patsy was relieved when Delia turned to address her, but relief turned to anxiety when she noticed Delia refused to make eye contact with her.

'I'm sorry about that Miss Mount. I should see if I can find this little ones mother,' Delia said quickly, gesturing to the kitten in her hands.

'Oh,' Patsy attempted to respond but Delia had already turned and was out of earshot within seconds, hurrying back toward the chicken coop down the path.

Feeling quite disheartened and a little flummoxed at what just happened, Patsy thought it best to not run after her. If her little peck on the cheek had this much of an impact on the woman than Patsy reasoned that she just ought to leave it be.

With a heavy heart, her appetite lost, she went back to her bungalow and stayed there the rest of the afternoon.

The phone on the bedside table ringing shrilly jolted Patsy awake. Her heart beat frantically in her chest from being startled, but she calmed down once she realized it was just the phone.

After the whole debacle with Delia and the kitten in the kitchen, Patsy and fallen face down on her bed and hadn't moved in the last several hours, it seemed, falling to sleep with her head buried in her pillows, recounting her words and motions from that chaotic scene where she failed miserably at making the simplest thing to eat and nearly chopped off her thumb.

In her post nap fogginess she wondered who exactly would be calling her, no one really knowing she was here at the inn other than Trixie.

Patsy took a deep breath and sat up on her elbows, raking her fingers through her messy hair as she clumsily reached for the phone.

'He-' she croaked out before clearing her throat, 'Hello?'

'Sorry to disturb you Miss Mount,' came Mrs. Busby's pleasant yet professional voice, 'There is a Barbara Gilbert on the line for you. Will you accept the call?'

Patsy raised an eyebrow. Barbara? What was Barbara doing calling her?

'Yes, of course,' she said.

'Hold please.'

There was an audible click and a beat of silence. Patsy used the brief moment to roll over onto her back.

'Hello?' came a voice that did not sound like Barbara.

'Barbara?' Patsy asked, confused.

'No, it's Trixie,' came the urgent voice on the other end of the line.

'Trixie?!' Patsy exclaimed, 'What the bloody… Why did you lie and say you were Barbara?'

'Well you haven't rang in so long I thought you were dead. Or worse,' her voice dropped several octaves, 'avoiding me.'

'Or for-,' Patsy rolled her eyes before responding, 'I _have_ been busy you know. I've actually been working.'

'On Delia?' Trixie asked, and Patsy could hear the woman grinning on the other line.

Patsy flustered, 'Trix, that's neither here nor there at the moment,' she said, her heart sinking as she brought her arm over her eyes, recalling their moment in the kitchen.

'I suppose that's not going so well, hmm?' she mused, 'You sound tired. You alright?'

'Oh, you know,' Patsy said with a stretch, 'it's springtime and a young man's fancy and all that?'

'What?'

'The animals are fornicating and having babies, Trix,' Patsy yawned, sitting up, 'They're everywhere and bloody noisy. Been waking up at four o'clock these days. It's maddening.'

'Really?'

'Really. They won't shut the bloody fuck up,' she grumbled.

'You sound grumpy about that. Feel like you're missing out?' she asked teasingly.

'Yes Trixie,' Patsy seethed, 'The birds and the bees. And the cows and the pigs and the sheep and god knows what other creatures are out there,' Patsy sighed, moving to get out of bed but only succeeding to sit on the floor and lean up against the bed, 'Everything is fucking a whole lot more than I am right now and it's not fair.'

'Oh, Pats…' Trixie sighed.

'Even the flowers and trees are reproducing,' Patsy grumbled.

'Oh, will you just tell me what's going on already? What happened with Delia?' Trixie pleaded.

Patsy took a deep breath through her nose.

'Nothing. Nothing happened with Delia.'

'Whyever not?'

'Probably because I've ruined everything.'

'Why? What happened? You didn't pounce, did you?'

'Trix… I…'

'You pounced, didn't you?'

'I didn't!' Patsy exclaimed, 'I mean… I feel like what I did could have been seen as just… something small. Affectionate!'

'Pats, just tell me - hey!'

Patsy listened as there seemed to be a struggle on the other end of the line, two women fighting over the phone and Trixie swearing, her voice growing faint.

'Pats,' a deep breath of air followed, 'how are you, sweetie?'

'Barbara,' Patsy sighed affectionately, 'I'm an absolute wreck.'

'So no better than usual, hmm?' Barbara said, and Patsy could tell she was smiling on the other end.

' _I was talking to her, you know_ ,' Patsy could hear Trixies faint voice say from somewhere in the room.

'Trix, what have I said about using the phone in the bath, hmm?' Barbara chided, 'You'll get yourself killed!'

'Ooh,' Patsy could hear Barbara bristle as water sloshed around her. .

'Babs, how are you? I haven't talked to you in ages,' Patsy said.

'Oh, I'm alright,' Barbara said, 'Same old. Keeping up with the hospital charity and all that.'

'Wonderful to hear,' Patsy managed a smile.

'You're getting on with your project, I assume?' she asked, 'Your father's memoirs, I mean, not this Delia person Trixie has told me about.'

'Oh god,' Patsy groaned.

'Pats, it's alright,' Barbara said cheerily, 'I'm kind of happy if you've found someone you want to go steady with.'

'Oh, no, not you too, Barbara,' Patsy sighed.

'Why, what's the matter?'

'Well, I… wait, what do you know?' Patsy asked curiously.

'Well, I know you want to jump her bones,' Barbara said, much to Patsy's consternation, 'and she works at the inn? And she's _butch_? What exactly does that mean, Patsy? Is it a look or...?' Barbara asked innocently.

'Babs... ,' Patsy sighed, 'I honestly don't know, and at this point I'm inclined to think it's however she bloody well wants to define herself… I'm just… I'm attracted to her, alright? I know she's not like anyone else I've ever been with, but there's just _something_ about her. I can't help it! At first it was her her body. She's got a farm girl's body, you know? She makes the tractor look like an accessory, she's got muscles so big,' she mused.

'Really?' Barbara said, rather mystified.

'God, Babs, I've never wanted to sink my teeth into someone so bad,' Patsy whispered, wondering if it was her state of tiredness that was having her speak so nonchalantly. She knew that Barbara was a little more reserved, but Patsy was so enamored with Delia that she didn't care what she said or what her friends thought.

'Goodness… well I think I know what that's like,' Barbara said, and Patsy could hear Tixie giggle through the phone.

'She works in the sun and smells like the earth, you know?' Patsy sighed wistfully to her friend, 'Her skin is so tan and so beautiful, Babs, you have no idea. And she's so sweet and kind, I just,' Patsy sighed again, 'I'm just so completely smitten. I couldn't help it when I gave her a kiss earlier.'

'You gave her a kiss?!' Barbara exclaimed.

' _She gave her a kiss_?!' Patsy heard Trixie cry over the sounds of water sloshing over a porcelain tub, 'Patsy,' Trixie said, the receiver having been forced to her mouth, 'you kissed her?!'

'Calm down you two,' Patsy sighed, 'it was just a kiss on the cheek and… and I don't think she liked it.'

'Oh, Patsy,' Trixie chided, 'what did I tell you about pouncing!?'

'Oh, Trix, I know!' Patsy seethed, 'and I didn't… not really. I was good. I only gave her a kiss on the cheek for being so sweet to me, but she basically tucked her tail between her legs and ran away,' she sighed, 'if that isn't a sign she's not interested, I don't know what is.'

'Oh, sweetie,' Trixie said sadly.

'Trix, I just… I'm so smitten with her. It… well, I don't think I've ever been rejected before! It's terrible!'

'Pats,' Patsy could hear Barbara take the phone away from Trixie again, 'It'll be alright.'

'She's… I don't know how to describe it,' Patsy pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her free arm around them, 'I think of her first thing when I wake up in the morning, and if a day goes by where I don't see her… well, I'm absolutely devastated.'

Patsy wiped her nose with her sleeve.

'Trix, I don't know if I can handle being rejected like this…'

'Oh, Pats, but you must,' Trixie pleaded,'if she doesn't like you like that… well, I mean, put yourself in her shoes. You wouldn't want some woman hanging around yo that you didn't like, would you?'

Patsy's mind momentarily flashed to Missy, and she grimaced, wondering if she were clinging that badly.

'Or worse!' Trixie exclaimed, 'pretend it was a man doing the things you were doing to her!'

'Ugh! Trixie!' Patsy cried, 'That's terrible! I'm not that bad! ...I merely kissed her on the cheek and… and told her to tell me I'm pretty…'

'Pats,' Trixie tisked.

Oh god,' Patsy cried, hugging her knees, 'Trix, I mean… I can't help it. I can't help my feelings! I just want to reach out and hold her,' Patsy cried, 'I want to kiss her and tell her she's beautiful and kind and just the most wonderful person,' Patsy sighed, feeling like she would break down into tears, 'but she doesn't want me… I can't... ,' Patsy hiccuped, tucking her head into her elbows, 'Trixie, she has me wrapped around her finger. I'd do anything for her… even if it meant staying away... if that's what she wanted.'

'Oi, Delia!'

Patsy's eyebrows furrowed as she heard the voice of one of the boys call out through her window.

'Come on now, we've got to get on.'

The next sound Patsy heard was that of something clamoring to the front stoop of her room, and heavy footsteps retreating from her door.

Patsy's mouth clamped shut, her eyes wide as her head whipped around to the front of her room.

The sound of those footsteps faded until she could hear the sound of the pub door slam shut from across the garden.

Patsy swallowed a lump in her throat as she stared at the door, ignoring Trixies pleading voice on the other end of the line to announce she was still there.

Had Delia been listening in?

'Hang on a second, Trix,' she said sternly.

Patsy left the receiver on the floor as she stood and walked to the door, her heart racing as she slowly reached for the knob and turned.

She slowly opened the door to find noone there, only her basket that she had long forgotten before she and Delia entered the kitchen earlier that afternoon.

The door creaked as she slowly opened it wider, her eyes taking in the sight of her basket laying there on the stoop, full of apples.

Patsy squinted and saw bread and cheese, slices of meat and little bowls of things like olives and pickles and a glass bottle full of water.

Had… had Delia brought her food?

' _Pats_?' Patsy could hear the faint voice of Trixie on the line, ' _Pats? Are you there?... Patsy_?'

Trixie's voice seemed to fade as Patsy could only think of what Delia might have heard her say.

Patsy grabbed the basket and closed the door behind her, her hand coming to cover her mouth in shock as she replayed the last few things she said out loud in her head. Had Delia really just heard that?And if so what was she thinking? Would Patsy need to hide herself from the woman for the rest of the summer or grin and bear it/ She had no idea and the thought of possibly losing Delia as a friend absolutely terrified her.

' _Patsy_?' Patsy could hear Trixie cry frantically from the phone, her voice small and soft.

' _Are you there?... Patsy_?'

Notes: Patsy finds Delia giving a kitten a milk and she says this is the closest she'll ever be to being a mother. Patsy decides to make them lunch and her pasta catches fire. She goes back to sandwiches and cuts her thumb, resulting in Delia stitching her up. All this makes Patsy realize how useless she is. Later that evening Patsy drinks and asks Delia to dance - they have a great time and get caught up in the moment and she kisses Delia on the cheek - Delia shys away and Patsy feels bad thinking she's made a mistake - she goes to bed.(possibly end chapter here).

The next morning she decides to apologize and goes out to look for Delia - she finds her chopping wood with Valerie nearby - she hides and listens in (Valerie knows she's there but ignores her but decides to start asking Delia about how she feels about Patsy) and Val asks Delia questions and gets her to verbally work out how she's feeling about her and everything. Val convinces her to give it a chance and Delia says she's going into town and will invite Patsy along. Patsy rushes back to her room to get ready and overdoes it. They go into town together on the motorbike and Delia insist she wears a helmet - joking that Patsy has so much lacquer the helmet won't mess up her hair. They ride into town and Delia drops Patsy off at the record store while she goes to the hardware shop, saying she'll come in when she's done. Patsy finds out the shop has a recording studio


	6. Chapter 6

Patsy lay in bed staring at the ceiling that Sunday morning, completely motionless and ignoring the urge to get up and use the loo until she had a plan. Until she figured out exactly what she was going to do.

After she had realized that the object of her affections had overheard her talking so cavalierly about said affections over the phone to her friends Trixie and Barbara, well, Patsy had the pleasure of experiencing Delia running away from her. Again. She had done it twice within the day. If that wasn't a hint that she didn't feel the same, then Patsy didn't know what was.

'No, no,' she said to herself, rolling over onto her side and worrying over the ring she wore on a chain around her neck. She held it between her two fingers and pressed the cool metal of the ring against her lips, finding the sensation soothing in moments like these.

She faced her window and even given the dim lighting from the sun barely appearing over the hills, she could make out the figure of Alison the pony waiting for her daily dose of apples. Patsy merely narrowed her eyes and ignored her.

She sighed.

'She's too shy to confront you…,'

Patsy rolled over onto her back again and groaned.

Her heart felt heavy in the pit of her stomach. Has she been misreading this these past few weeks? Why had it never occurred to her that Delia might not like her back?

Patsy sat up in bed and looked around, spotting Delia's record player on the chest at the foot of the bed. The basket she had brought sat close by, a little lighter than how she left it as Patsy had helped herself to some bread and cheese after not having eaten all day and much too nervous to leave her room the night before.

Leaving her little things like this. Playing music together. The walks they shared every day. The conversations. The laughter.

Pasy chewed at her fingernail, her mind racing through all the moments they had shared together.

In any other instance she would think that she was getting some very mixed signals from someone like Delia, but as it was, there was that silly little dynamic of Patsy being a guest in their home. Wouldn't that mean that Delia was essentially _required_ to be nice to her? Had she been faking it all this time? Simply humoring her because she had paid to be here?

'This is terrible,' Patsy mused to herself as she finally swung her feet over the side of the bed, 'I'll just… I'll go and apologize.'

She reasoned this was the best course of action, seeing as she still had several months left to stay at their little inn and she didn't want to make the entire summer an awkward experience for the both of them.

'Then again,' she admitted to herself with a heavy sigh, 'if she wanted me to, I would leave…'

Patsy shook her head and steadied her thoughts, resolving to at the very least get dressed and look somewhat presentable before she went to find Delia and try to fix… well, try to fix whatever it was going on between them. Friendship… business arrangement. Whatever it was, Patsy didn't think she would be able to live with herself without at least trying to make things right between the two of them.

The church bells rang in the distance signaling the changing of the hour, and Patsy rose from the bed to get ready.

Dressed down, the way Patsy knew Delia liked, in a simple jumper, trousers and white trainers, Patsy closed the door to her room and looked out onto the gardens, immediately spotting a figure through the morning mist walking from the main house towards the path through the forest.

'Val?'

Valerie was lighting a cigarette as she walked on by, seemingly not noticing Patsy at all.

Patsy watched as the woman disappeared through the trees, wondering just where she was going. Perhaps she was just going for a stroll? Everyone else would be attending church and the only people who could possibly be out there would be Delia's brothers Mike and Nick and they were bound to still be sleeping.

She could be going off to find Delia, someone Patsy knew would likely be having her breakfast out by the lake. She had known this since her first Sunday here at the inn when she stumbled upon the brunette doing just that. The two had shared most their meals together since then and Patsy's heart sunk in her chest again thinking that those might have to stop.

Patsy shook her head and decided to stealthy follow Valerie, hoping that the woman would eventually lead her to Delia.

She traveled down the path, trying to be as quiet as possible to remain unseen and unheard, not quite knowing herself why she didn't wish for her presence to be known, but she kept as quiet as possible anyway.

Patsy silently observed as Valerie walked along, whistling to herself as she puffed away on her cigarette, kicking at rocks and other things as she walked. Patsy was happy that her presence seemed to go completely unnoticed thus far.

Valerie turned a corner past the boys bungalow near the chicken coop and Patsy followed along, almost startled by what she saw.

There Delia stood, dressed in a plain white top and jeans, her back turned to Patsy as she raised an axe over her head and swiftly brought it down.

Patsy thought for a moment she would hear the shrill cry of a poor chicken losing its head, but she was rather relieved to see that the woman was only splitting a small log in two.

Nonetheless, the action had Patsy strangling a surprised shout, and in her haste to stay quiet, she tripped over her own feet and fell into a rather thick shrubbery, falling with an _oomph!_ on her back, legs in the air, and making quite the racket, to her dismay.

'What was that?' Delia asked.

Hand over her mouth to will herself to stay completely still and silent, Patsy cracked open one eye to see that Delia had indeed heard her but she was looking up to the trees, while Valerie was looking directly at her, her eyebrow raised and looking at her queerly.

Patsy gave a pleading look, pressing a firm index finger over her lips to signal for Valerie to not give her away.

The eastender merely rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Delia.

'Red haired fox, I reckon,' she said with a sly smile, and Patsy bristled at her choice of words, 'think it skittered off into the shrubs over there,' she finished, nodding her head in the opposite direction of where Patsy lay.

Patsy wanted to strangle Valerie for being such an ass but was relieved when Delia merely shrugged and turned back to her wood block, taking a moment to pull a handkerchief out of the back pocket of her trousers and wipe the sweat off her brow before she tucked it away.

'Good thing I fixed the fence yesterday,' she mused, referring to the chicken coop.

Patsy watched as Valerie casually nodded with a hum and continued to smoke. Delia fixed her flat cap more snug on her head and bent down to pick up another piece of wood to split.

Delia took a firm stance and raised the axe over her head again, bringing it down with such force that the wood on the block split seamlessly in two, both pieces falling to the ground on either side of her. Patsy was a little distracted admiring the flex of her arms and back as she moved.

Patsy audibly gulped, trying to swallow her desire for the woman as she watched her bend down to pick up the wood and casually toss it into a wheelbarrow nearby. The sight of her shapely bum in her trousers and the flex of her arms as she tossed the wood had Patsy pleading to herself to get a hold over her hormones.

She nearly had to pinch her arm to remind herself that she was there to try and _not_ desire Delia at all, that she was strictly there to apologize for her behavior the day before and to try and be platonic friends with her.

 _Try_ being the key word there and thus far she was not off to a great start.

Delia repeated the same motions and another log was split in two. Valerie watched on nonplussed as she took a drag of her cigarette.

'Is a cold snap coming though?' Valerie asked, exhaling a line of smoke around her head.

Delia raised an eyebrow at her.

'No,' she said rather short before she placed another log onto the block. The axe came down again and swiftly chopped it in two.

'Well seeing as winter is months away and there's no cold weather coming anytime soon, I can only assume you're chopping wood for the only other reason you ever chop wood,'

'Val,' Delia said warningly.

'and that's because you're sexually frustrated,' Valerie finished, flicking her cigarette with her thumb to ask it.

Patsy's eyes widened as Delia seemed to respond through gritted teeth.

'Valerie,' Delia pleaded, 'I'm chopping wood because wood needs to be chopped, alright?!'

Delia hastily placed another log on the block and brought the axe down, the wood splintering off and flying in multiple directions. Patsy had to bite her lip from bursting out in laughter as Valerie comedically ducked out of the way.

'Alright, steady on,' Valerie said as she stepped out of the way from danger, 'just couldn't help but notice you seemed a little wound up after last night.'

'I'm fine,' Delia said through clenched teeth as she set up another log.

'Did something happen with Patsy?' Valerie asked casually.

'No, nothing happened. Why would you think that?' Delia said quickly, bringing the axe down and splitting the log once more.

'Uh, gee, I don't know,' Valerie said condescendingly, bringing a finger to her chin in fake contemplation, 'I feel like the two of you have been acting pretty peculiar since last night,' she said, giving a side eye to Patsy who was currently laying practically upside down in the bushes, the redhead merely narrowing her eyes warningly and scowling in response.

'Why?' Delia asked quickly, 'Did you talk to her? Did she say something?'

'Well she didn't make an appearance in the pub at all last night, and for all I know since she's been here she hasn't missed a performance by you and the boys yet,' Valerie replied.

Delia merely grunted.

'And anyway, why would Patsy say something if there's nothing going on, hmm?' Valerie hummed, smugly taking another long drag of her cigarette.

'Oh, shut it,' Delia bristled before she brought another log to the block and sliced it in half. She bent down and chucked the pieces into the wheelbarrow as Valerie leaned against a tree and continued smoking.

'You finally tell her you fancy her?' she asked.

Patsy held her breath, her eyes wide.

'What are you talking about?' Delia asked.

'Oh, come off it. You've been done in ever since she arrived,' Valerie chided, exhaling a line of smoke above her head.

'Have not,' Delia said stubbornly.

'Yes you have!' Valerie stated, eyebrows rising, 'First I thought you were a nervous wreck and tripping all over yourself because you were a fan of her books, but it just turn out you like her something awful!'

'I do not!' Delia insisted, although not very convincingly.

'What's worse is that it's so painfully obvious to everyone but you that she fancies you too,' Valerie quipped.

Delia looked sternly at Valerie for a moment and Valerie held her challenging stare, eyebrow raised and eyes wide, sucking on her cigarette and silently daring for Delia to deny it all again.

The brunette finally relented, her shoulders slumping as she sighed and brought the axe down to stick straight out of the chopping block.

'No, I'd say it's pretty obvious to me too,' she said softly, placing her hands on her hips.

'Oh, you finally take a hint?'

'Take it… more like I was bludgeoned over the head with it,' she mumbled.

Valerie scoffed, apparently taken back by this information.

'So something did happen then?'

'Might of…' Delia shuffled from one foot to the other nervously, bringing her hand to fidget with her hat nervously.

'Will you just tell me already?'

'I…,' Delia started, removing her cap and scratching the back of her head, 'yesterday. She had a bit of an accident in the kitchen. I patched her up and she… she kissed me on the cheek,'

'That's a start,' Valerie interjected, 'what happened after?'

'If you let me get it out…,' Delia sighed through her nose, annoyed at the interruption as she situated her cap back on her head.

'Well?' Valerie asked impatiently, moving to chuck her cigarette and pull out a new one from her pocket.

'I… it took me by surprise, is all. Da came in and interrupted thankfully; had no idea what to say or do in the moment, did I? Made a fool of myself by making up some excuse about that damn cat and ran off.'

'Well are you sure,' Valerie shrugged, taking a puff of her new cigarette, 'I don't know, maybe she just kissed you on the cheek because she felt like it? Blimey mate, you did something nice for her and she kissed you on the cheek, it's a completely normal thing to do. It's not like she proposed or something.'

'That's what I thought too after I had a chance to think about it,' Delia said, 'Figured she was just being nice after I bandaged her cut, but then…'

'But then?' Valerie asked, leaning forward and wide eyes.

Patsy too was listening in, absolutely captivated from her spot in the bushes.

'Later I… well I think… I think I made her feel bad for kissing me because she didn't leave her room the rest of the day,' Delia sighed and reached up to scratch the back of her head, 'I brought her some supper and I think she was talking to a friend on the phone when I walked up. She said… well, she said in so many words… that she fancied me.'

Patsy could feel herself blush recalling the 'so many words' she used to describe how she felt about the woman.

'Well go on then, Deels!' Valerie urged, 'What's holding you back, hmm? She's a proper looker that one, seems like she'd be terribly sweet on you too.'

'Val!' Delia chastised, turning pink in the face, 'I can't!

'Why? And don't give me that whole 'She's a guest' spiel,' Valerie pointed a finger warningly, 'You used that excuse with that one Irish bird that was passing through and you let a good thing go to waste. I'm not going to stand by and watch you go through all that again.'

Patsy couldn't help the twinge of jealousy that pierced through her chest at the mere mention of another woman Delia may have had affections for. She quickly shook it off, pleading with herself to steady on.

'Valerie, just no. It can't happen,' Delia insisted, her tone stern yet soft.

'Why the bloody hell not?!'

Delia sighed, exasperated, 'Val really…'

'No, I want to know why!' Valerie insisted, ignoring Delia's state of anxiety over this whole conversation.

'Because she's posh, that's why!' Delia shouted, gesturing to her state of dress, 'Look at me, Val! Everything I own is rubbish. _I'm_ rubbish,' she said sadly, 'I've got no money, no property, no title... It's pointless. I've nothing to offer her, and…'

Patsy watched as Delia pulled her handkerchief from her pocket again and wipe her face, and she couldn't tell if she was wiping away sweat or tears.

'... and she's just going to go back to her glamorous life back in London come the end of the summer and forget all about her time here,' she said, 'She'll forget all about me…' Delia said softer, shyly rubbing the back of her neck, 'She can do so much better than me too,' she added feebly.

'Ah, Delia come on now,' Valerie said, letting up on her earlier harsh tone, 'You really think she's that shallow? After all the time you've spent with her?' she took a puff of her cigarette and blew it out, 'Figured you would have known her better than that by now.'

Delia merely sighed as she tucked her handkerchief back into her pocket

'It's your own self who's holding you back it seems,' Valerie continued, 'Really, why would she come all the way out here to work if she could have stayed back in London? Or Paris or wherever else people go to write or make art' she said, waving her arms about, 'she doesn't seem to care about all that. She's not like those women she writes about in her series you know,' Valerie said, 'least I don't think so. Doesn't seem like the type, anyway...'

Valerie raised an eyebrow and gave a knowing look to Patsy, the redhead silently shaking her head in response, hoping Delia wouldn't look over and see her laying there.

'I wouldn't know. Haven't read any of her books other than the first few chapters of the one you loaned me,' Delia replied.

'Why not?' Valerie asked, 'Figured you'd want to gobble up anything she wrote.'

'Because she asked me not to, that's why,' Delia replied softly.

Patsy was quite taken back, rather touched by Delia respecting her wishes to not read her old, rubbish books.

'Don't see what that's any reason for you to not give me my book back,' Valerie grumbled.

'I told you, I lost it, alright?' Delia said, obviously lying to cover for Patsy, 'I'll buy you a new one soon as I have some money.'

'Oh,' Valerie bristled, 'I don't see why you and your brothers don't take some of my tip money. The crowd you three bring in alone would buy a whole book store by now.'

'No, Val, those tips are yours,' Delia insisted, 'you save it and get the hell out of here when you can.'

Valerie rolled her eyes, sighing despondently as if this was a fight she knew she couldn't win, 'Delia, look,' she said getting back on topic, 'you're only going to make yourself miserable by denying yourself this. Who cares if it only lasts a summer?'

'I don't want something that only lasts the summer,' Delia said firmly, pulling the axe out of the stump again.

'Of for the love of,' Valerie smacked her hand against her forehead, 'When is another beautiful posh redhead that _fancies_ _you_ ever going to come through this town ever again? Hmm?' she asked, 'You better jump on it or I will!'

'Oh, will you now?' Delia raised an eyebrow and stood firm raising the axe in her hand slightly.

'Alright, only joking,' Valerie said quickly, taking a few steps away from Delia, 'shesh Delia if only you had a glare like that when you were...,' she trailed off, seemingly stopping herself before she said something by mistake.

'Wouldn't have stopped 'em and you know it,' Delia said, looking angry.

Patsy was confused by this little comment but she couldn't help but think this was in reference to _the incident_ Valerie mentioned her first day here, the details neither she nor Delia had yet to disclose to her.

Delia tossed the axe into the wheelbarrow on top of her mound of chopped wood.

'Look, please don't say anything to her, alright?' Delia pleaded, looking to Valerie.

'Promise,' Valerie said, raising her right hand like a proud scout while crossing the fingers of her left hand behind her back, 'Are you going to buck up and talk to her then?' she asked.

Delia merely narrowed her eyes and glared.

'Seriously Delia,' Valerie continued, 'You fancy her and she fancies you. Don't deny yourself this little bit of happiness and fun, even if it is temporary.'

'Val, I don't _want_ temporary,' Delia implored, 'She's going to leave at the end of the summer and that's that. May as well save myself the heartbreak and not start anything to begin with.'

'You'll at least talk to her yeah? Can't be avoiding her the rest of the season,' Valerie insisted.

Delia gave a frustrated sigh, 'Yes, alright? Look… I've got to go into town today anyway. I'll go and see her round lunchtime and invite her along, yeah?'

Delia picked up the wheelbarrow and began rolling it back down the path and towards the main house. She paused for a moment and looked back at Valerie.

'You coming in for breakfast?' she asked.

'I'll be along,' Valerie nodded, 'Need to see Micky about a thing.'

Valerie grinned and Delia gave her an odd look, Patsy rolling her eyes from her spot in the bushes, thinking Valerie was a terrible liar.

Delia merely shrugged and continued on down the path, and Patsy watched her go, waiting until she was well out of earshot before she even dared to exhale.

Her breath of air turned into a shout as a pair of hands abruptly grasped her jumper and hoisted her out of the bushes. She was upright and on her feet so fast her head was spinning.

'Heard everything you came out here for, then?' Valerie asked removing her hands from Patsy's jumper only to pull the cigarette from her lips and blow out a line of smoke around her and Patsy's head.

'I'm sorry what?' Patsy asked, blinking, still a little kerfuffled from being pulled upright so quickly.

'That's why you followed me out here hmm?' Valerie asked, 'See if I could get Delia to talk?'

Patsy sighed, 'Look, I didn't mean for this to happen,' she insisted.

'What, hide in the bushes? Good thing because you're a terrible spy since I spotted you straight away.'

'Oh, hush. I certainly did not intend to spend a good portion of my morning in the bushes,' Patsy said as she tilted her head and rubbed her shoulder, hoping to alleviate the crick in her neck from having to lay in such an awkward position for so long, 'I don't make it a habit to eavesdrop on others, I promise. I actually came out here to find Delia but you beat me to it.'

'You were looking for Delia?' Valerie asked, seemingly not surprised at all by this revelation.

'Yes,' Patsy insisted, plucking a leaf from her hair and flicking it away, 'I was going to apologize to her because I thought I upset her yesterday… and, well, I did but not for the reasons I thought I did.'

'Really?' Valerie asked, genuinely intrigued.

'Yes,' Patsy sighed looking back to here Delia walked off to make sure the brunette was out of sight, 'Thought she didn't like me at all and that I had come on too strong with my little peck on the cheek,' she reached up to scratch the back of her head nervously, 'though it seems she's smitten with me, too?' she asked, still a little unsure.

'Oh, yes,' Valerie replied, throwing her cigarette to the ground and stomping it out, 'she likes you very much from what I can tell.'

Patsy sighed once more, fluffing out the leaves and dirt from her jumper and standing up straight to show she was serious.

'Look, you didn't have to pretend I wasn't there and make her say all those things. Though I appreciate you did. Your little chat cleared up some things I was uncertain about, that's for sure,' she gave a reassuring smile, 'feel like I know how I can move forward.'

Valerie shrugged, 'Figured I'd help you out seeing as I can't take my friend pining over you any longer.'

'Well you heard her,' Patsy said with a heavy heart, 'She seems to have convinced herself that it'd only be something temporary in her life, and …,'

'And you wouldn't be?'

'Well that's the thing,' Patsy said, uncertain, 'I don't know. I don't know what comes next for me when I'm done here. My future after this summer is completely uncharted…'

Patsy knew she really liked Delia. She was absolutely attracted to her, that was for sure, but what about how she truly felt for the woman deep down in her heart?

In the time she had known Delia, she felt she only wanted to spend more time with her. Delia was the first thing she thought of when she woke in the morning and the last thing on her mind before she fell asleep at night. She was so happy when she spent time with Delia and unhappy when she was without her.

But was this love? Wasn't this just infatuation? She knew deep down that she had felt this before with other women and yet somehow it wasn't the same with Delia. Somehow Patsy, as of yet, hadn't grown tired of the Welsh woman like the other women she had been with.

Then again, Delia was unlike any woman she had ever met.

Yet, Patsy didn't know if she _could_ love her. She had never been in love before, not with a romantic partner, certainly. She had no idea if she were capable of the act, and even if she was, there was no guarantee that Delia would love her back. She had no idea if they were meant to be, and she wouldn't know. Especially if Delia refused to give her a chance.

'So theres a chance then, yeah?' Valerie asked with hope in her eyes, 'That you might stay?'

'Val, that's the whole point' Patsy sighed exasperated, 'She wants something stable and I can't give that to her, and it doesn't sound like she's willing to take that risk…,' she trailed off sadly, looking down and moving some dirt around with her toe, 'I feel like it would take an act of God at this point for her to give me a chance otherwise.'

'Oh, don't be so dramatic,' Valerie said, waving her off, 'she'll come around eventually even if I need to give her a good swift kick in the arse to get there.'

Patsy couldn't help but give a laugh, 'You really want to see us together?'

'Course I do,' she said with a sigh, 'she's my best mate. She's done so much helping me get my life back on track after I lost my license that I'd do anything for her, you know? I just want to see her happy after everything she's been through the last few years.'

'Does it…,' Patsy started softly, looking around, 'does it have anything to do with…' she trailed off and pointed to her eyebrow, mimicking where Delia's scar was on her own forehead.

Valerie sighed, 'Might be part of it, yeah.'

'I take it you're not going to tell me what happened?' Patsy deadpanned and Valerie gave a stern nod.

'Not mine to tell. Besides, I feel like you've been given enough unsolicited information about our Delia this morning.'

'I suppose that's fair…,' Patsy said looking off into the distance, still taking in everything Delia had said. She reasoned that she would need to be more careful with her. She decided right then and there that however she and Delia moved forward if at all, she would let Delia set the pace.

Though, Patsy just couldn't bring herself to promise to stop the shameless flirting.

'I'm not like that you know,' Patsy insisted, Valerie looking at her and waiting for her to continue.

Patsy's hand instinctively reached up to cradle the ring around her neck.

'I don't care about money or status,' she sighed, the image of her mother and sister, though faded with time, flashed to the front of her mind, 'everything I have in this world… I'd give it all up for the people I love in a heartbeat.'

She looked up to Valerie when she felt the woman place a comforting hand on her arm.

'I'm not the one you should be saying this to,' Valerie said, 'but Pat's, if it means anything, I believe you.'

Patsy smiled as Valerie gave her arm a friendly squeeze and stepped back.

'You know,' Valerie said slyly, 'when you first showed up I thought you was going to be like one of them girls you wrote about in your books,'

Patsy froze her eyes widening,

'You know, the pompous, wishy washy types who flit from girl to girl breaking hearts and the like.'

'Aha, yep,' Patsy laughed awkwardly, 'completely fictional and not based on real life whatsoever, I assure you,' she lied terribly.

'Well they do say write what you know,' Valerie eyed her skeptically.

Patsy felt hot under her jumper suddenly, and she nervously hooked a finger under her collar to let out some of the heat.

'Pats, relax,' Valerie said, 'I'm only teasing. Besides, I know you wouldn't go and break Delia's heart on purpose now, 'cause if ya did, I'd kill ya!' she finished with a grin and slapped Patsy on the back.

Patsy forced a laugh but wasn't entirely convinced Valerie was only joking.

'Ah well,' Valerie said as she scratched the back of her head, 'best be getting on with the day I suppose. And hey, I think you might have a date today.'

'A date?' Patsy asked, her eyes wide.

'Well, sort of,' Valerie shrugged with a smile, 'Delia will be taking you into town, if I remember correctly. You play your cards right you might get an iced lolly out of it,' she said with a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows.

'Oh! I forgot about that!' Patsy exclaimed, her emotions going from scared to happy in an instant.

Valerie smiled at how excited Patsy was, reaching up to pluck another leaf from her hair.

'You might want to go and tidy up. Not that Delia is a stickler for how ya dress but I don't think you want to have any evidence on you that you were hiding in the bushes.'

'Ah, thanks Val!' Patsy said as she began to run off, plucking at loose twigs that were still stuck to her jumper.

She ran the rest of the way back along the path and to the main house, making sure Delia was nowhere in sight as she snuck back to her room to get ready, excited at the thought of spending the day with Delia.


End file.
